


STAR WARS: The Old Republic - The Jedi Code

by Androxidae, TheLastEnvoy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Ballroom Dancing, Commitment, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Sex (Star Wars), Gay, Gay Sex, Jedi, Jedi Code (Star Wars), M/M, Meant To Be, Multi, Past Relationship(s), Past Sexual Abuse, Past Torture, Secret Relationship, Shameless Smut, Sith Empire, Sith Pureblood, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:35:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23362570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Androxidae/pseuds/Androxidae, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLastEnvoy/pseuds/TheLastEnvoy
Summary: Having finally admitted their feelings for one another, Kyros and Xerxies seek to spend some quality time together away from the Defender’s crew. Their plan: to attend an elaborate ball at the Organa’s palace on Alderaan, unaware as to how much this will upset their fellow crew members, nor the secrets they will uncover about each other and themselves. Will they remain dutiful to the Jedi Code or will their union tear apart all they have worked for?
Relationships: Kira Carsen/Male Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython, Male Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor/Lord Scourge, Male Jedi Consular/Male Jedi Knight | Male Barsen'thor/Male Hero of Tython, Male Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython/Lord Scourge
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	1. Force Bond

**Author's Note:**

> Our first collaboration!!! We've been working on this really hard for the past several weeks. We hope you enjoy it as much as we have writing it. :)
> 
> **WARNING - This fic will contain some assault and attempted rape in Chapter 6.

Xerxies Androxida wished the _Defender_ was bigger. That way, he and Kyros might be able to spar together. There might also be a little more privacy for the two of them. If they were the light corvette’s only passengers, with T7 hiding down in the engine room and that blasted protocol droid fussing about the decor, it wouldn’t be such a problem. But with Kira, Doc, Rusk and now _Scourge_ running around, they barely had a moment’s peace until at least one of the crew would walk in on them.

“You worry too much,” Kyros said as he held Xerxies in his enormous, muscly arms. This was during the previous cycle as the two lay together in the captain’s quarters, Xerxies’ arm resting against the Jedi master’s broad, hairy chest. “So what if they see anything?”

“I just… I just want to keep things private,” Xerxies responded, blushing under the gaze of the bigger man. The way Kyros looked at him always made him melt, with those deep green eyes, that light half-smile always on the corner of his lips. “For now, at least.”

“All right.” Going by the twinkle of amusement in his eyes, Xerxies knew Kyros was still wondering about his reasons but chose not to ask at that moment.

“It’s just that the others won’t understand,” he said with sigh as Kyros began playing with a strand of his red hair. “Especially Kira.”

The mention of his padawan wiped the smile from Kyros’ face.

“Sorry,” Xerxies said.

“It’s okay.”

“I know the two of you were close.”

“More than close.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

It took a moment for Kyros to respond. When he did, his eyes were hooded, his face a deep yellow in the lamplight. “She brought out the worst in me,” he said at last. “And I didn’t like that.”

Xerxies nodded. “I thought you were gonna say it was because you felt conflicted about the Jedi Code or something.”

“The Code isn’t right about everything,” Kyros said, shrugging. “I think even you can agree with that.”

Xerxies felt the blush climb up his cheeks. “You could say that.”

Every time they kissed it seemed the Force itself would celebrate. Their bond was undeniable. It proved that the Jedi had been getting it wrong for millennia. Love was no path to the Dark Side. In fact, love could bring someone back from the brink of that abyss, as was the case on Hoth. Kyros had been about to strike the Jedi traitor down out of pure rage. A simple touch on the arm had been enough to bring him back to his senses. The stars only knew what would’ve happened if Xerxies hadn’t been there. Besides, he knew that there were hundreds of Jedi, even now, who had secret lovers. Even Grandmaster Satele herself was rumoured to have had one back in the Great Galactic War. And, of course, everyone knew about the story regarding her apprentice and the scandal that had caused.

“If you kiss me any harder,” Kyros said once they broke apart. “You might push us out of hyperspace.”

“Good,” Xerxies said, grinning. “I like a challenge.”

*

Xerxies pressed into Kyros, using his hands to pin him back onto the bed as he deepened the kiss. Kyros savoured the feel of the other Jedi’s tongue as it darted in and out of his mouth. He grasped his lover’s arms, longing to be closer. As Xerxies lifted his head back, the magenta and cyan hues of the nearby nebula danced on his porcelain skin. The light made distinct icey blue streaks in his otherwise emerald eyes. As Kyros gazed into them, they shone with a cold intensity that sent a shiver down his spine like the sharp winds of Illum. Reaching back, Xerxies removed the clips holding his flame red hair up. It tumbled down, covering his head and neck like a mane. The warmth it added was like a summer breeze moving in after a cold spring on Alderaan.

“You’re beautiful…” Kyros barely had the air to say it. But he meant it. He’d never met anyone quite as beautiful as Xerxies. No one in the whole Galaxy moved like he did or spoke like he did - soft with a hint of playfulness.

Then Xerxies’ free hand moved down his stomach towards. The sudden warmth of his hand over his manhood made Kyros yearn for more. Xerxies didn’t bother replying. Instead he smirked as he played with the pre that had begun to flow from the tip of Kyros’s pulsing member. The sensation made his entire body tense. As he lifted his finger, a sliver of it followed. Xerxies pressed it to his lips. Tasting it. Tasting him.

“Lights.”

The computer responded in kind as the room brightened. Slowly, Xerxies lowered off the be, letting his hair brush Kyros’ body. As his face scanned past examined his lower half, he gently kissed the tip of Kyros’ member, before straightening up.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Kyros’ body was already heating up as his flushed face rose from the bed. Barely even touched, his body was screaming to be pleased as Xerxies wrapped himself in a dressing gown made from Alderaanian silk, lined with Corellian fur. As he sat at the vanity he had picked up from Onderon, marble with lapis and gold embellishments, he began to elaborately run a comb through his hair. While he was a Jedi at heart, Xerxies was always partial to some luxuries. Kyros knew that his mother, although a starship captain, always adorned her quarters with the finer things in life. He could understand that. A starship could be cold and barren. If it’s to be your home, you must make it feel like home.

Putting the comb down, Xerxies sat looking at himself in the mirror, then over his shoulder at Kyros.

“I believe I like you this way.” he said, smirking at Kyros’ leaking manhood.

Now grinning himself, Kyros sat up and placed his hands around his waist. Xerxies gasped and giggled.

“If you think I’m just going to let you tease me like tha-”

He felt a sudden force push him away, back onto the bed. Standing at the foot of it, the telekinetic energy still glowing from his palms, Xerxies’ smile broadened.

“You were saying?”

Kyros couldn’t protest. The other Jedi had already begun to use the Force to bind him to the mattress. His manhood throbbed so hard that his back arched a little and he bit his lip.

“My, my. Seems someone got a little excited by that,” Xerxies said with a low hum as he slowly let his robes slip from his shoulders. Now, he was fully naked. Kyros swelled, his eyes locked on Xerxies body.

“You know. I’d always wondered what would happen if a Jedi allowed the force to flow through him during sex. Perhaps I should find out…”

Next moment, Xerxies straddled him, allowing his buttocks to rest against Kyros’ hardened member. The warm liquid leaking from it began to leak more as Xerxies ran his fingers up his chest. As Xerxies allowed Kyros to enter him, Kyros felt a sudden shock of pleasure, as if he himself was also being entered. As he looked at his lover, he was in awe as his glowing eyes. He was using the Force in ways Kyros never thought to use them. He felt it cupping intimate areas, stimulating others. He couldn’t help but let out a moan. He’d never felt anything like this before.

As every inch slowly entered Xerxies, he felt how tightly it gripped him. Each resulted in Xerxies releasing a quiet moan, making him leak all over Kyros, his stomach hair becoming wet and sticky. Then Xerxies began to slowly grind his hips back and forth, using the force with each thrust to cause a warm ebb and flow. At once, something incredible yet absolutely wonderful happened. He could feel Xerxies beating heart, feel the raw emotions within him, his wishes, his desires, his wants and dreams. As Xerxies began to quicken the pace, he could feel a raw, strong, undeniable want. No. A need. Brewing within his very core. Kyros grabbed Xerxies by the waist, flipping him onto his back.

“Enough of you doing all the work, let me take care of you,” he growled into his lover’s ear. He re-entered him, this time with a hard thrust.

“Ah! P-please. Again.” Xerxies barely managed that much before Kyros began to thrust in and out with hard, powerful motions. With his free hand he gripped onto Xerxies own swollen member, jerking it up and down, letting the pre soak his hand. They had both wanted this for so long, both running purely on deep, raw instinct. Kyros began to sweat as he worked harder, leaning forward to nibble Xerxies neck. He noted that Xerxies hadn't even begun to sweat. His skin smelled, even tasted, as sweet as honey, his hair like the field of wildflowers where they first met on Alderaan. The scent drove him wild. It reminded him of what he felt when they first laid eyes on one another. He’d never seen anyone quite like Xerxies. Someone who seemed to emanate pure light, a beacon of the Force itself.

“P-please, harder. I’m so close” Xerxies sounded exhausted but wanting. His perfect porcelain skin had turned pink. He had begun to glow again.

The Force wrapped around them in an embrace, binding the two of them together, mind body and spirit. It doubled the pleasure they felt, strengthened the bond that had formed. The sound of skin hitting against each other began to fill the room as Kyros picked up speed. He was barely aware that they had lifted from the bed, the Force carrying them into the air. It flowed throughout the room, lifting the vanity, the set of drawers, even the bed itself. The lights pulsated and brightened as if about to blow out. Even the _Defender_ seemed to shake and tilt as their carnal unity.

He flipped Xerxies over onto his back, gazing into those deep emerald eyes as the two clutched at each other, longing to be closer.

“I’m so close,” Kyros panted. “I’m so close! Xeries, I lo—”

He felt an eruption of emotion inside Xerxies as he came, his ejaculation spouting upwards, hot and white. At the same time Kyros too came. The warmth of it filled them both.

The second it happened the room returned to normal as if the artificial gravity had reasserted itself. They collapsed onto the bed just as the rest of the room’s furniture fell back to their original positions. Both exhausted, barely able to catch their breath, Kyros lay on top of Xerxies. They kissed for long intimate moments.

“I love you, Xerxies.” The words escaped his mouth of their own volition. But he meant it. At the same time, it filled him with dread. No words in the Galaxy carried more weight. And what would he say back? Would this be the start of something? Would they be bound until the end of their lives?

More importantly, did Kyros want them to be?

Xerxies' eyes pierced, arms curling around Kyros’ vast shoulders. He was startled to see tears in the sage’s eyes.

“And I you, Kyros,” he said. 


	2. Shore Leave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eager to spend some time alone, Kyros and Xerxies announce to the crew that they're going on shore leave. Their reactions to the news are worse than they expect, and when Kira brings up her history with Kyros, the mood takes a definite downturn.

“Shore leave?” Command Rusk voiced the shock that was written on all their faces. “But, Master Jedi, we surely don’t need—"

“I only just got back from Nar Shadaa,” Doc chimed in, annoyed. “You’re telling me I have to leave again when I spent my last credits at the Starcluster?”

T7-01 beeped and whistled something to the effect of expressing its own surprise and confusion. Kira and Scourge said nothing. They stood on opposite sides of the holocomm, their expressions blank. All of them gazed at Kyros and Xerxies as if they were some odd attraction at a freak show on Rhodia.

“I think we need a break,” Kyros was saying. “Honestly, we’ve been bouncing from planet to planet so much that it’s almost like we’ve become the Galaxy’s single police force. We’ve earned it.”

Xerxies knew he should’ve chimed in then and helped Kyros out, except his tongue seemed to have been frozen in carbonite. He hated lying to the crew like this, but there was no other way to get shot of them. Once they were all gone, they could have the _Defender_ all to themselves.

“But, Master.” Kira spoke up at last. Her voice was quite calm though Xerxies could sense her emotional conflict. “I thought we were going to Coruscant to meet with the Oxian delegation. Master Satele was quite specific—”

Kyros brushed her statement aside. “Master Satele assured me it can wait. She only wanted us there if we were available. Otherwise, she and the other senators are perfectly capable of meeting the delegation themselves.”

Kira bit her lip. “That’s not what I remember.”

Kyros met her gaze with a patient smile. “Trust me. Master Satele and I understand each other well enough when it comes to these things. If anything, she was the one who hinted at us taking some shore leave.”

Nobody looked as if they believed this. Not even Scourge.

“I may not know the ways of the Jedi,” he said with his usual sneer. “But somehow, I never thought your order was one to just give you a pass on what’s clearly a very important mission.”

Xerxies found it difficult not to scowl at the Sith. What was it with him? Every time anyone said something, he always had to come out with something negative, usually a scathing criticism or an opinion nobody asked for. Realising he was letting his anger get to him, he silently recited the opening line of the Jedi Code.

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

"I think you overestimate the importance of this particular mission, Scourge,” he said. “After all, Oxus Prime is on friendly terms with the Republic after it saved them from that deranged Sith Lord. The meeting with the delegates should be a relatively simple affair. It hardly requires our diplomatic skillset.”

The Sith Pureblood folded his arms. “You have a very high opinion of your skillset.”

“Not opinion, Lord Scourge. Merely factual. I can assure you my status as Barsen’thor is well earned.”

“So, you say.”

“I think,” Kyros said with a slightly raised voice, “that we still need some shore leave. After all, spending so much time cooped up on this ship can put people on edge. So, Rusk, Doc… How about we leave you two on Corellia? I heard there’s some nice relaxation resorts—”

“I’d rather go home to Mindor,” Rusk said. “If you are forcing this leave on us, that is.”

Kyros nodded. “All right. Mindor it is.”

“And what about me?” Kira sounded sullen.

“How does Zeltron sound?”

She pulled a face. “Even I have standards, Master. Why don’t you just drop me and Scourge off on Coruscant? Maybe we can kick around in your apartment until you remember we exist.”

Even Scourge cocked an eyebrow. “You think that I wouldn’t… Well, _stand out_ on the capital world of the Republic?”

“As if you haven’t wherever else we’ve been,” Kira said with a snort. “Tall red Sith on every Republic world from Taris to Balmorra. Not a problem! He’s probably just enjoying the scenery.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not,” Scourge muttered.

“So, where will the two of you be going?” Doc asked Xerxies and Kyros. “Off on some romantic getaway?” The two of them stared at him before he added, “Oh yeah, forgot you Jedi were allergic to fun.”

Though clearly a joke, Doc had struck too close to home for Xerxies. Did the former field medic know something? Had he told any of the others? Before he could mull on it, Kyros spoke again.

“I’ll be heading to Tython,” he said. “I thought I might take a more spiritual approach to my shore leave. Meditate. Try and brush up on my lightsabre skills.”

“And I’ll be going to Alderaan,” Xerxies said. “I’ve been invited to a reception at the Organa’s stronghold.”

“That’s settled then!” Kyros clapped his hands together. “All right, meeting adjourned.”

As the rest of the crew left, Xerxies grabbed Kyros by the arm. “That was a pretty lousy lie. They saw right through it.”

His response was only to raise an eyebrow. “So what if they did?”

“You’re being reckless, Kyros. If they find out about us, it could get back to the Jedi council and we’ll be expelled from the order.”

“Do you have any idea how many Jedi pursue secret relationships?” He sounded indignant. “A lot more than you might think. And are any of them Sith? No. Because that’s not how the Force works and it’s not how emotions work. Love and passion can bring peace. The absence of it makes you more likely to fall.”

Letting go of his arm, Xerxies composed himself. “What you’re saying sounds as if you want the leave the order.”

“Of course I don’t!” Kyros looked hurt by the very suggestion. “How can you even say that?” With one quick glance over his shoulder, he clutched at Xerixes’ hands, holding them tight in his broad palms. “All I’m saying is that the Jedi need to reevaluate how they look at love and attachment. I mean, look at our bond! What we shared last night… It was beautiful. I never felt anything like it my entire life. And I know you felt the same. We’re a part of each other now. We always will be. The Force chose us to share this connection and it felt so _right._ How can the order think that is a bad thing?”

“Keep your voice down!” Kyros hadn’t raised his voice but Xerxies wasn’t taking any chances. He reluctantly pulled his hands out of his lover’s grip and held them against his bearded cheeks. “All I’m saying is that you should be careful. That kind of talk can get you in trouble.”

“Well, it’s like I said, half the order has a secret love affair at one point or another,” Kyros said, though with a hint of a smile. “Even Master Satele— But it’s only rumours. I should not tarnish her good name.”

“She’ll spear you with her sabrestaff if she could hear this conversation.”

“That would be horrifying. The only person I want spearing me is you.”

“As far as your jokes go,” Xerxies said, smiling himself now, “that wasn’t your best.”

“Perhaps you could help me gather some new material.”

“On Tython? You’ll be lucky. Jedi wouldn’t know humour if it hit them in the face.”

“Careful… That talk can get you in trouble.”

“Oh, shut up!”

They kissed and it was full of such warmth and love that Xerxies wanted it to last forever. He could feel Kyros’ affection for him, the sense of longing, and satisfaction that they two of them were finally exploring their true feelings for one another. But beneath it, there was something else. A conflict. Other feelings Xerxies couldn’t quite identify. The best way he could describe it was hesitancy or, perhaps, fear.

“What is it?”

Kyros blinked. “What is what?”

“Is something about this, about _us_ , bothering you?”

There was an infinitesimal pause before Kyros replied, “No. Not at all. I’m happy that we’re together. Are you happy?”

Despite what he said, Xerxies still felt that fear. If anything, having questioned its existence, it seemed to have intensified.

“I’ve never been happier in all my life.”

*

After leaving the holocomm room, and Xerxies in his quarters to get changed, Kyros allowed his fear to rise inside him a little. He’d slipped up in allowing Xerxies to call it out like that. He would have to practise some Force mediation to help suppress it, especially when the other Jedi was around. While he wasn’t sure about what they had, he knew for certain he did not want to lose it.

Retreating to the cockpit, he found Kira sitting at the controls, supremely unconcerned about the fact that he’d entered the room. She barely even acknowledged his greeting as he sat beside the holonav and began inputting coordinates.

“So, who should we drop off first?”

“Hm?” She didn’t even turn to look at him.

“For shore leave. I was thinking Rusk would be best. Mindor is the nearest planet from here.”

She answered him with a shrug. “I guess it is.”

Once he’d finished the coordinates and the _Defender_ was hurtling through the blue tunnel of hyperspace, he put the ship on autopilot and turned to her.

“Are you all right, Kira?”

She busied herself with her own terminal. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

“You seem distracted.”

“No. Just focused.”

“You also seem a little annoyed at me. Did I do something wrong?” The question was profoundly idiotic, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Of course he’d done something wrong! He’d broken up with her. For weeks now, she’d given him the cold shoulder, even though their relationship ended on the best of terms, mutually and with no fuss. She understood as well as he why they couldn’t remain an item. Her ideas about the Jedi and how they should take back control of the Republic had seriously changed the way he thought about her. Of course, she was only twenty — with time, she would mature politically and become wiser about the nuances of ruling an entire Galaxy. But it also brought home an uncomfortable truth which for the longest time never bothered him until it slowly began to eat away at his conscience. She was young, idealistic and operated under the idea that he would become her surrogate father, even though his position as her master filled that role already. It made him realise that she was damaged and needed someone to be there for her when she was fighting off the demons of her past. Kyros could not give her that need. It was kinder to end things so she could find the one who could.

“Aside from abandoning an important mission to have some time off?” she said. “No, not really.” She put her feet up on the console and rested her hands behind her head. “The Force knows I’ve been needing a vacation.”

He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. “Kira—”

She sat up, regarding him with that fierce blue-eyed gaze that he always admired. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what you’re doing. You’re deliberately avoiding this, as if you don’t care about it.”

Her tone was rising and flattening out in bewilderment. He tried to quell it with an easy smile and a shrug.

“The flavour of politics has gone a little stale.”

She did not laugh. “Sometimes,” she said, and her voice betrayed a sadness so deep that it broke his heart, “I don’t even know who you are anymore. You’ve been behaving so odd lately.” Internally, he groaned. He knew what was coming next as she turned her gaze towards the viewport and let out a derisive laugh. “I mean, first, you tell me we can’t be together anymore. Then you start having secret meetings with Xerxies. And now this! I don’t even know what to make of it.”

Sighing, he tried again. “Kira. You know that it couldn’t go on. You need someone who can protect and support you in a way that helps you cope with what you’ve been through.”

“That was supposed to be you.” She glared at him. “And I must say, you were doing a great job until you decided you didn’t want to do it anymore.”

“Now hold on,” Kyros said. “That’s not fair.”

“Fair?” she said. “You want to talk fair? How _fair_ is it that you ghost me for weeks on end because you’re too afraid of your own feelings? How _fair_ is it that you call me up in the middle of an important mission to discuss our future, completely humiliating me in the process? How _fair_ is it to break up with me, over holocomm no less, because me being “damaged” is too much for you to handle?” He was startled to see tears in her eyes. “I was so humiliated, Kyros. I had to sit there and pretend everything was fine while a Republic general lectured me on why his troops were more disciplined than any Jedi he’d ever met. Even when I was allowed a moment to myself, all I could do was cry. No Jedi training could stop it. Meditation didn’t work. Reciting the code didn’t work. I just felt so… helpless, and alone.” Wiping her eyes, she looked back down at the console, sniffing. “Even if you weren’t my master, I might’ve left this ship long ago,” she said. “But I stayed because, and I _hate_ this most of all, I still care about you, Kyros. Some part of me still feels joy whenever you’re near me. My stomach leaps every time you look at me, every time you touch me, even if it’s just a pat on the shoulder. I live for those moments and I hate myself for it.”

Head bent, she sighed and did her best to regain her composure. Kyros had enough trouble himself. All he wanted to do was fall to his knees and beg her forgiveness. He never meant for this to happen. He just wanted her to be happy. If only he could communicate that to her through some other means than hopeless stares and long, stupid silences.

All he could say was, “I’m sorry.”

If “I love you” was the most wonderful phrase spoken throughout the galaxy, “I’m sorry” was the absolute worst. Hollow. Meaningless. Woefully inadequate. She seemed to think so as well.

“It’s not like you can do anything to make up for it.” She began tapping at buttons again, making it plain that the conversation was over. He returned to his seat, feeling wretched. If only a black hole could swallow him and spit him back out into a universe where love wasn’t so complicated.


	3. Interloper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Xerxies prepares for the ball on Alderaan, he mulls over his misgivings over his relationship with Kyros. Meanwhile, another member of the Defender's crew admires him from afar.

Xerxies was pacing his quarters. On his bed he had lain out a meticulously crafted outfit — a golden, silk robe from Corellia with a ribbed bodice, bare arms, plunging neckline, a long fur cape and heeled shoes. He had picked up a set of gold Sith jewellery to go with it: a nose shield, septum ring and a circlet with a moonstone set in the middle. Eager though he was to try it all on, his thoughts were far from his ensemble. Xerxies always liked to busy himself with fashion. It had a cathartic effect on him. A trait of his mother's, he supposed. 

Now, however, its calming effects eluded him. His mind swirled with anxieties of his relationship with Kyros, as well as those Kyros has shared a bed with. It was unlike him to become so jealous of someone like Kira. It was plain that she and Kyros no longer felt that way about each other. And yet, every time he looked at her, there was always a spark in his eyes as if he was stirred by feelings he no longer wanted to acknowledge. Until today, Xerxies thought he’d imagined it. But now, with the Force Bond that told him everything his lover was feeling, he knew that it wasn’t.

Kyros still cared for Kira. Whether this was a master caring for his apprentice or a man caring for the woman he loved, Xerxies wasn’t sure. The only thing he was sure of was that it bothered him. Hugely.

What bothered him more was that he didn’t know precisely why.

Jedi though he was, Xerxies was far from ignorant when it came to human emotion. It was natural Kyros would feel affection for someone who he was close with. Those feelings didn’t just vanish. Still, knowing that didn’t prevent his stomach squirming every time Kyros leant towards Kira or she stopped to talk to him in the hallway. Xerxies halted his pacing and tried to control his breathing.

_There is no passion, there is only serenity._

This was hardly becoming of the Barsen’thor. He was supposed to represent the shining light of the Jedi Order. He should be above such petty emotions. All that mattered was that Kyros loved him. He knew that. He felt it. Even as he sat talking with Kira at the other end of the ship…

Furious with himself, Xerxies perched himself at his vanity, stripping himself of his regular jewellery and delicately fitting the Sith items to his face. It didn’t help that these anxieties were overlaid with a deep annoyance for Scourge.

_Scourge._

The towering Sith had an unfortunate habit of knowing precisely what buttons to press to put Xerxies on edge. Arrogant. Brutish. Smug. Never had a good thing to say about anyone, not even Kyros, who he claimed to have great respect for.

 _But what did you expect?_ Xerxies asked himself. _He is a Sith, after all_.

Perhaps what annoyed him most was how Kyros had let someone so blatantly steeped in the Dark Side prowl his ship like an exotic pet who liked to snarl if you got too close to it. Sure, the evidence was undeniable that Scourge was no longer a servant of the Empire. But did that make him entirely trustworthy? Xerxies wasn’t so sure. Then again, he wasn’t so sure of anything these days.

He looked at himself in the vanity mirror, studying his features. He removed his robes to expose his shoulders and chest, his flame-coloured hair sitting on them delicately. He often wondered what it was about his appearance that didn’t make him look quite human. Was it his porcelain skin with its lack of blue or pink undertone? Maybe it was his eyes. Too green and too bright. And then there was his hair, so red that it practically glowed. His father had been a redhead, yet he never looked like a saturated hologram. Then again, his father had been human. His mother, on the other hand… He wasn’t quite so certain. All he remembered was that she had white hair. That was it. Even as a child, as she laughed and danced with him, wrapping him in all kinds of silks, he recognised there was something about her that separated her from his father. She was ethereal. Graceful. Moved as if carried by the wind. He, on the other hand, had been brusque and pragmatic, with blunt features, something Xerxies had failed to inherit. His nose was too narrow and pointed, his eyebrows too sharp. Many had called him delicate. Petit. It had caused many human eyes to follow him in curiosity and, perhaps, unease.

“Maybe,” he imagined them whispering, “he’s one of those near-humans.”

Raising his hands, he began raking his hair with a comb. He fought with it. Argued with it. He even tied it up in different positions. But no matter what he did, it would not obey him. Stray locks kept falling from the side of the knots he made. Annoyed, he let it fall again and slammed the comb down, his cheeks turning pink. This almost made him smile. At least the blush brought out his human side.

When he finally decided to get dressed, he succeeded in putting his hair in a tight and delicate bun on the crown of his head. It was not exactly a complex knot common among Alderaanians, but it would do. Spraying himself with a light and sweet perfume, he exited his quarters and made his way towards the cockpit, heels clacking against the metal grating. Kyros and Kira were there, as he expected, and he was secretly pleased to see that neither were talking to one another. They sat on opposite ends of the helm as if determined to avoid each other’s eyes. As he entered, they turned to look at him. Both their jaws dropped.

"I'm ready for Alderaan,” he said. “Don’t worry about transport, I can take a ship from wherever we’re going first. I do not wish to be an imposition.” They continued to ogle at him, speechless. “Of course,” he said, “unless it’s on the way.”

Kira looked him up and down, her mouth becoming a thin line. “That’s one fancy outfit.” Disapproval coated every syllable she spoke.

“Thank you. I got it on Corellia.”

“And that nose guard. Is it Sith?”

“It is. A gift from Lord Nux. For saving his life.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I heard those things channel the Dark Side.”

Xerxies inclined his head. “I can assure you this one is just an innocent piece of jewellery, so no need to worry.”

“Who’s worried?” Her scowl perplexed Xerxies. “Though I must admit, it’s not exactly part of the Jedi code to wear such… finery. Master Kiwiiks said it’s a sign of vanity. Such worldly attachments are more becoming of a Sith than a Jedi.”

Kyros, who up to this point had been staring at Xerxies as if hypnotised, glared at Kira. Feeling his lover’s indignation at her rudeness filled him with pleasure. The big man even opened his mouth to reprimand her, but Xerxies beat him to it.

“Not every master has the same views on Jedi teachings,” he said. “Besides, your attitude is hardly becoming of a Jedi either, young padawan. Part of our order is to serve as diplomat and, as this celebration is being held in my honour, it’s my duty to attend in the appropriate attire. One must look the part if they wish to belong in the Alderaanian court.".

Kira looked taken aback. Xerxies imagined she did not expect the typically silent, mild-mannered Jedi Master to match her mouth. But this was Kira. Tact was seldom her greatest attribute.

"You lecture me,” she said, “when you stand there dressed like a beauty queen from Nar Sharddaa?”

“Kira, that’s enough!” Kyros snapped but Xerxies cut him off.

"I am the Barsen’thor,” he said. “That makes me more than qualified to lecture you as I please."

The young Jedi said nothing. She merely glowered at Xerxies before returning her attention to the console. Kyros had gone back to staring at him. The awe and admiration radiating from him made Xerxies’ blush grow hotter.

“Well, if you want my opinion,” Kyros said. “You certainly look every bit the Alderaanian nobleman.”

“Thank you, Kyros.” He smiled, trying to communicate his gratitude as best he could without words, though he was sure Kyros could feel it as warm as Tython’s sun on his cheeks.

“To answer your question,” he said, turning away from him, though not without a smile of his own, “we can drop you off on Alderaan. It’s on the way to where we’re going anyway.”

“What?” Kira’s head snapped up. “But I thought we were—”

"That’s perfect,“ Xerxies said with a small bow. “Thank you again, Kyros.”

He left the bridge, making his way to the aft section. As he entered the holocomm room, he noticed Scourge sitting in the alcove, brooding as usual. Ignoring him, Xerxies approached the food unit, going over the list of what was left of his welcoming gift when he joined the crew, before finally settling on Telosian spice tea. The strong, warm scent filled the room and Scourge wrinkled his nose.

"Must you always be so… you?” His deep growl of a voice always made Xerxies wary as if he expected him to start shouting at any moment.

"Is class and taste too much for you to handle?” Xerxies said, gesturing at his gown. “Or do Sith so rarely bathe that the scent of something clean offends you?”

Scourge nostrils flared. "Excuse me?"

Xerxies looked at him sideways, sitting down to sip his tea. "You heard me, Scourge.”

Oddly enough, this made the Sith smile. “You don’t like me very much, do you?”

Setting his cup down, he examined the brute for a moment. “No,” he said at last. “I’m rather afraid I don’t.”

This elicited a brief grunt from Scourge. “I don’t blame you,” he said with a cruel smile. “If I were you, I wouldn’t like me either.”

Xerxies frowned. “Why do you care? It’s not like you’re particularly fond of me.”

“I neither like nor dislike you,” Scourge responded. “Personally, I find you too dull to even form an opinion over.”

“Charming, as always.” Xerxies crossed a leg over his other knee, exposing part of his leg and thigh. Reclining in his chair as he sipped more tea, he noticed Scourge looking at him. His red eyes crawled up his body from the ankles up to his plunged neckline then back down again, lingering on his legs.

“Like my costume, do you?”

The Sith inhaled sharply. “Too gaudy for my taste.”

“I’m wearing Sith Jewellery. I thought you’d appreciate that, at least.”

“Really? I hardly noticed.”

Silence fell, in which C2, the protocol droid, came in to start polishing the bulkhead. Xerxies almost forgot about Scourge as he watched C2 bustle his way fussily about the room until he felt a sharp sting in the Force that almost made him gasp. He whipped round to face the Sith just in time to see him quickly look away from him as if he didn’t want to be caught staring.

“Something wrong, Scourge?” Xerxies could never quite gauge his emotions. The Sith species in general, particularly this Sith, were so deep in the Dark Side that it clouded his perception. Either way, what he felt just now had undoubtedly come from Scourge. He felt that emotion in only one other on this ship and he was sitting in the cockpit with his apprentice.

“I… It’s nothing.”

Finishing his tea, Xerxies stood up and swept past him towards his quarters. As he passed, he could feel the Sith’s eyes following him. It made him uneasy. Why was Scourge so interested in him all of a sudden? Regardless, he paid no heed as he stepped over the threshold and sealed the door behind him.

*

Scourge didn’t know what was happening to him. His gaze remained fixed on the closed door of Xerxies’ quarters for so long that he wouldn’t have been surprised if he burnt a hole in it. His chest tightened as he fought back the sudden barrage of images that were flooding his mind. He imagined what the Jedi might be doing behind that closed door. Getting undressed, maybe. Slipping out of the outfit that hugged his slender frame. As he sat there drinking that revolting tea, the smell of his perfume had wafted up Scourge’s nose. It was a delicious smell, one that made him think of the autumnal trees on Voss. A strong, clean, natural smell. He had never smelt anything so intoxicating. Neither had he seen the Barsen’thor in anything quite so… revealing.

He clenched his knuckles in his lap. What was wrong with him? He’d never spared Xerxies more than half a dozen glances before today. Now, he was having the same effect on him as Kyros had that one night they spent together.

That one, glorious night.

He shook his head, disgusted with himself. This was some Jedi mind trick. Xerxies was using his influence in the Force to make him appear more attractive than he was. He was certainly vain enough, strutting about the _Defender_ in his ridiculous costumes. Unusual for a Jedi, to be sure, but nevertheless aggravating. He wondered why Kyros even brought him on board at all. Aside from his power in the Force, what did he add to the team? Even the sycophantic way he believed Scourge would be _pleased_ with him wearing Sith jewellery made his lip curl. If he was looking to have it ripped off him, he was going the right way about it. First that nose guard, then the septum piercing, and then those layers of lace and shimmersilk until it laid bare the beautiful white body beneath. Grab him by the throat. Make him see what dealing with a real Sith was all about.

To his horror, Scourge felt something stir inside him. The codpiece of his armour became alarmingly tight as his thoughts turned to Xerxies and Kyros. Together. Inviting Scourge to join them.

Scowling, he shut his eyes and tried to think of other things. The sweeping, slashing motions of Djem So. The rolling thunderclouds on Droumnd Kaas. Xerxies begging for more as Scourge violated him.

His eyes snapped open again and he sighed.

“It was _not_ nothing.”


	4. The Arkanian Waltz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their anxieties brimming to the surface, Xerxies and Kyros fulfil their duties at the Alderaanian ball only for it to end in a row that threatens to unravel all they've worked for. At the same time this is happening, a mysterious Arkanian hounds Xerxies, seeming to watch his every move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hnnnng this one's a bit longer than normal but fear not!!! Plenty of ballroom angst in this chapter!! :'D

As the _Defender_ dropped out of Hyperspace, Alderaan bloomed before the viewport, a giant blue marble in the vast blackness of space. Kyros stared at it, feeling apprehensive. Kira had just stormed out. She had claimed, after several ringing minutes of silence after Xerxies left, that Kyros had failed to come to her defence when he was “attacking her”.

“You started it,” Kyros shot back. “What did you have to criticise what he was wearing for?”

“Because he’s wrong,” she said. “Master or not, I don’t care what he says. It’s not the Jedi way. It’s vanity. Don’t you ever think that the title of Barsen’thor has gone to his head?”

He scowled. “You’re imagining things.”

“Or maybe,” she said, “you’re madly in love with him and conveniently ignore all his flaws.” She was being sarcastic, of course, but Kyros nevertheless blanched at her words. What was it with her and being able to identify the truth in such an uncomfortable way? 

“Just like how I ignored yours, you mean?” he growled. “Until they became so blindly obvious that even a Tatooinian desert slug could see them.”

She stared at him, her face full of hurt. Then, lip tight, she got out of her chair and marched out of the cockpit. Seeing her vanish into her quarters brought him a moment of spiteful satisfaction, quickly followed by overwhelming guilt. What was the matter with them all today? Master Orgus would be ashamed with the way they were behaving. It was like they were adolescents again. Was he really doing the right thing, going to Alderaan with Xerxies? Wasn’t his first duty to his crew? To the order? He knew he should follow Kira and apologise but a petulance he didn’t really feel dissuaded him. Let her sulk. Maybe then she can spend her shore leave meditating on her issues and leave him alone.

As the light corvette approached the planet and entered the upper atmosphere, Kyros brooded on what was about to take place. Rusk and Doc would not be happy to learn that they’d landed on Alderaan first. It was well out of their way. Mindor was in the Inner Rim and while Corellia was in the Core it wasn’t exactly an easy hop to the next star system. The same could be said of Coruscant. They would all just have to take a transport once they touched down. Kyros did not think he could put up with being everyone’s chauffeur for the next several days before he reached their respective worlds. That was if they even agreed to take a transport. So far, his and Xerxies’ plan to spend some time alone together was not going well.

How could he have so badly miscalculated? He should have known they would’ve been opposed to shore leave. They’ve been practically floating these last few weeks, taking their time to enjoy themselves on whatever world they landed on while undertaking the occasional mission from Master Satele. After all, they had just saved the Galaxy. They’d earnt it! “Shore leave” at this point sounded just like what it really was — a flimsy pretext to get away from each other.

_But what is wrong with that? Do you want to get cabin fever?_

This thought was spoken in Xerxies’ voice. Calm. Soothing. Almost hypnotic. He smiled, already feeling reassured. Then he cried out as a mountaintop loomed in front of the viewport from behind a cloud. Jerking the controls, he managed to avoid it, but heard a lot of bangs behind him as loose items flew towards starboard. He even heard T7’s mechanical scream down in the engine room.

“It’s all right,” he assured everyone over the intercom. “Just some turbulence. We’ll be landing soon.”

Clicking the button off, he wiped sweat from his brow with his gauntlet. That had been close! The last thing he wanted when he landed was to shell out credits for repairs. Then again, he would’ve seen that mountain if he’d just been paying attention.

Could Kira be right? Was Xerxies clouding his judgement?

Perhaps this was why he felt so ill at ease whenever he thought of their future together. If he made their relationship public, even to the rest of the crew, it might mean he would be forced to leave the Jedi. His titles would be stripped from him, his name and reputation tarnished. And if his relationship with Xerxies got out, his history with Kira could too, meaning the same fate would befall her, something she would never forgive him for.

He held onto the console, focusing on controlling his breathing. He was getting ahead of himself. What mattered was the here and now. If he trusted in the Force, things would work out how they’re supposed to. They always did.

Feeling better, he flew the ship below cloud level, revealing miles of the Alderaanian countryside dotted with its opulent strongholds and framed by immense mountain ranges. No one would ever guess that such a beautiful world had ever been torn apart by war.

The cockpit door opened and Xerxies entered, though of course Kyros sensed his confusion and concern from his quarters on the other end of the ship. Still dressed in his elegant gown, the gown that left very little to Kyros’ imagination, he approached him with a smile and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

“It was a mountain,” Kyros explained. “I didn’t see it.”

“Oh.” Xerxies’ mouth tugged with amusement. “That was clumsy.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise to me.” He stroked a lock of Kyros' hair. “Apologise to the Queen when our crash landing prevents us attending her reception.”

Kyros snapped his head around. “I— I’m coming too?”

“Of course you are! You’re my plus one.”

“You mean I… have to dress up?” He tried imagining his bulky frame fitting into an outfit like Xerxies, the V-cut showing off his curvaceous, hairy belly. It was not a pretty picture.

Xerxies was still smiling. “I’ve picked out your outfit especially.” He laughed at Kyros’ continued look of terror. “You’ll be fine! I think it quite suits you. If it makes you feel better, you can bring your lightsabre. Though, it would be for more ceremonial purposes than hacking and slicing Imperial war droids.”

Kyros tried to laugh but found his throat was too tight.

“It won’t be that bad,” Xerxies said. “I promise.”

“No, it’s just—” Kyros sighed. “Don’t you feel like we’re…? I don’t know.”

“What?”

“Don’t you think that we should perhaps… slow down a little?”

Xerxies’ forehead creased. “How do you mean?”

“It’s— It’s just that, at times, this thing we have, you and I, it seems to be moving along a little too fast.”

Now he looked perplexed and Kyros could feel his confusion increase. “It’s only a ball, Kyros. I’m not asking you to marry me.”

“I didn’t mean it like that! Look, I just think we should take our time a bit, that’s all. Live in the moment. Not be so concerned with going places together or being attached at the hip.”

Xerxies’ hand slid off his shoulder. “This whole thing was your idea.”

“Yes, but—"

“If you don’t want to come,” Xerxies said in a voice of forced calm, “then just say so.”

“No, I do! Believe me, I do.” Kyros held both his hands, rubbing them with his thumbs. “But it’s like you said last night. I’m… I’m just not ready to announce our relationship to the rest of the galaxy. What we have is special and I don’t want everyone ruining that by prying into it. That’s all.”

Xerxies considered him for a long moment then Kyros felt his growing distress dissipate.

“We’re not announcing anything, my love,” he whispered, holding a gentle hand against Kyros’ chin. “We are simply attending a party. An extravagant Alderaanian party, with lots of nobles and servants, but a party regardless. We don’t even have to go near each other, if that’s what you want.”

Kyros took the hand in his own and kissed it.

“All I want,” he said, “is to be with you.”

Their lips met for a brief moment but above the skies of Alderaan, it was an eternal paradise.

“And we will, my love,” Xerxies said. “We will.”

Smiling, Kyros reached for the control panel and synced the ship with Alderaan’s traffic control. With a chime, the ship transferred to autopilot, making its own way to the space port.

“Come with me,” Xerxies said. “It’s time we get you looking the part.”

He lifted Kyros from his seat by the hand and they left the cockpit, taking the right passage to the captain’s quarters. Kyros watched as Xerxies strutted beside him with a knowing smile. He seemed different out of his Jedi armour. Cockier. Less afraid to be himself. He did, however, keep looking over his shoulder as if he expected Doc or Rusk to come out of the deckwork and spot them holding hands. As they entered Kyros’ room, his eyes were drawn to a mannequin standing in front of the wardrobe draped with a cloth.

“What’s this?” he asked as he circled it. A grin formed on Xerxies’ mouth and it made him oddly anxious.

“A surprise. Close your eyes for me.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Then I’ll just have to use a blindfold.”

Kyros let out a slight laugh as he held his hands over his eyes. He heard the fabric being pulled off the dummy,

“All right. Open!”

As Kyros moved his hands away, what he saw made him gasp. It was a black tunic with gold embellishments. It was hip length with the arms ending at the wrist in a v-shaped cut. The trousers were the same colour but coupled with a pair of thigh-length gold boots. It was magnificent, elegant and fashionable, with a cape over the left shoulder coloured in black with intricate gold embroidery.

“I picked it out from _Corellian Visage_.”

Kyros looked at Xerxies. He smiled, wanting to be polite. But the thought of wearing it made him nervous. He was a big man, not slender and elegant like Xerxies. How would he even fit in it?

Xerxies approached him and took his hands, “Don’t worry, darling. I promise, you will be the envy of all the men at court”. He led him to the mirror where Kyros began to undress. He watched as Xerxies prepared the outfit. Catching his eye, Kyros remembered that Xerxies could also feel his apprehension. He tried to squash it down, knowing that the other Jedi would have noticed regardless. He didn’t say anything about it however as Kyros continued to strip out of his robes. Eventually, he stood there in only his underwear. Xerxies approached from behind, outfit in hand.

“Here, put these on first. I want to put the tunic on last so I can make alterations if need be.”

“Alterations?”

“Yes. I made this for you, but I wanted it to be a surprise, so I had to guess your measurements. I can make final edits now to remove any excess.”

Kyros held the trousers in his hands. Impossibly soft, it felt like silk, but also like satin. “What is this?”

“It’s Killik-silk. I was able to secure some from an ambassador not long ago. Diplomacy has its perks.”

Kyros ran the fabric between his index finger and thumb. It was cool, and soft to the touch. Carefully, he pulled the trousers up his legs. It made his warm skin tingle against the coolness.

“Need a hand?” Xerxies began fastening on the trouser crotch. “There, now put the tunic on. We haven’t got all day.” Kyros bit his lip as a stray finger stroked the lining between his crotch.

“That was cruel,” he said.

“And that silk is expensive. We can’t have you ruining it with any leaks”. His neck prickled as Xerxies ran his other fingers round the back, tickling him.

Now putting the tunic on, Kyros found that it fit quite well. The fabric seemed to be made of the same stuff as the lower garment. With all the adornments, however, it was a lot heavier.

“Well then,” Xerxies said. “No alterations needed. It’s as if I’ve been studying your body closely.” The way that final word escaped his lips made Kyros’s hair stand on end. As he finished fastening the single pauldron to his right shoulder, he examined his reflection and was pleasantly surprised by his new appearance. Never had he looked so polished. So refined.

“I’ll sort your hair out. And then we can go.” Kyros swallowed hard as he looked at Xerxies with his mischievous grin.

“Make it quick,” he said. “We’ll be arriving soon.”

*

Xerxies made his way out of Kyros’ quarters, pausing when he realised Kyros wasn’t behind him. “Are you going to hide in there all day?” he called. “Or should I use the Force to pull you out?”

The door opened and Kyros tentatively stepped out. His hair had been gelled upwards in a pompadour style. “I look ridiculous.”

“Nonsense. You look handsome.”

Xerxies was partly amused but also dismayed to see how red in the face he was. Why was he so embarrassed? His reaction recalled their conversation in the cockpit. Kyros had said he wanted them to “slow down” but Xerxies wasn’t sure what he meant by that. Was he bored of him already? He didn’t want to believe this, but he had felt his reluctance and even now, he could sense Kyros was hiding something.

 _You’re being paranoid,_ he told himself. _He’s just anxious about this ball. Just lead by example and allow him to follow._

Once they felt the jolt of the _Defender_ touching down, they opened the ramp and made their way offboard. Both shielded their eyes as they transitioned from artificial to natural daylight. The landing pad was open to the elements, approximately two kilometres from the Organa’s palace. As guests of honour, Xerxies knew they could’ve landed right outside the gates if they wanted to. But Kyros had insisted they landed here, saying that it would be easier for the others to get transports that way.

“Are they all right with that?”

“I mean,” Kyros said, “they’re going to have to be. I’m not hopping all over the Galaxy just because they want a free ride.”

This made Xerxies frown. “You offered the free ride to them.”

“Where are they, anyway?” Kyros said, ignoring this comment. “I haven’t seen them for over an hour. Are they all hiding down in the engine room? They must’ve known we’ve landed.”

Xerxies had also noticed this. “Maybe they want to leave later than we do.”

“Yeah,” Kyros mumbled. “Maybe.” As they walked across the landing pad, the cool wind whipping at their outfits, he grunted in dismay. “I hate this.” He was tugging at the tunic. “And these boots are too tight.”

Swallowing, Xerxies pushed down his annoyance. “Style is pain. And pain is pleasure.” He fixed Kyros’ breast adornments before pressing a sly kiss to his lips,

“You always have a way with words, don’t you Xerx?”

“Perks of diplomacy,” he responded with a wink.

A protocol droid was waiting for them beside a speeder. The droid looked exactly like C2-N2 only it bore the Organa colours of blue and silver. “Ah, Master Jedi. You’re on time. My name is C2-FY, attaché to the Royal House of Organa. Please, take a seat. This speeder will take you straight to the palace where Ambassador Organa is waiting for you”.

As they took their seats within the speeder, it lifted further off the ground and sped across the landscape at cruising speed. The pair took in the sights around them and Xerxies relaxed into Kyros as he pulled his arm over him.

“This planet is so beautiful”

“A beauty only matched by you”

Xerxies blushed. It wasn’t the first time Kyros had complimented him, but each time he did it felt like the first.

The speeder eventually began to approach the royal palace, its spires piercing the sky like towers of gilded marble. Arriving at the towering front gates, they were greeted by a tall, dark-haired human with tanned skin and hazel eyes. He held out a hand to help Xerxies out of the speeder.

“Greetings. I am Ambassador Andon Organa. It is good to see again, Master Jedi.” He extended his hand to them both and they shook it in turn.

“It’s always good to see a familiar face, Andon.” Xerxies smiled, though it didn’t last long as he felt Kyros place a hand stealthily at the base of his back.

“Indeed. How long has it been?”

“Too long, I’d wager,” Kyros said. His deep voice vibrated through Xerxies body, who quickly put the smile back on, keen not to give anything away. “How have things been since we last saw one another? Last time we met there was a civil war.”

Andon bowed his head. “All is well. Alderaan finally knows peace thanks to you. If you hadn't saved Master Garen, her sickness could have derailed into a catastrophe. And you, Master Kyros, if you were not here to stop the Death Mark… Well, none of us would have been safe and there’d be Imperial banners hanging from the rafters.”

They ascended a long staircase towards the enormous front doors. The palace towered over them and Xerxies felt Kyros’ anxieties increase as they crossed the threshold. As they continued through the vast corridors of the palace, however, that apprehension turn into awe. The walls arched high above them, gilded with gold and bronze. Enormous busts of past members of the Organa house lined the walls beneath elaborate tapestries and stain glass windows. The house coat of arms punctuated every few metres, depicted in paintings and mosaics, a triangular symbol resembling the head of a hooded serpent. The corridor felt kilometres long though, in reality, it was only twenty metres. Servant droids and royal guards passed them, along with a few individuals dressed for the reception. They stared at Xerxies and he averted his gaze, adjusting his train to cover his lightsabre dangling from his belt. As they neared the grand ballroom, the sound of music began to grow louder. At arrival, two stewards leapt forward and opened the doors.

Beyond, a loud human voice announced to what Xerxies imagined to be an enormous gathering of sentients, “Fellow delegates and esteemed visitors to the Royal House of Alderaan, please allow us to give a warm welcome to our honorary guests. Jedi Master, Xerxies Androxida, Barsen’thor to the Jedi Order. And Jedi Master Kyros Urso, the Hero of Tython.”

Applause rained down on them as the pair walked side-by-side down another set of stairs into the vast, circular ballroom. Xerxies sensed Kyros’ nerves spike, but he didn’t need the Force to know that. His lover had gone so stiff beside him that all he wanted was to reach out and clasp his hand. At the same time, a hundred eyes were upon them, seeing two of the most prestigious Jedi in the Galaxy gracing them with their presence, two Jedi attending a diplomatic function not in ceremonial robes but in regal costumes that overshadowed every other royal house on Alderaan. But as they descended, Kyros’ nerves faded away. He was beginning to enjoy all the attention, Xerxies realised. Keeping his expression neutral, he let out a small sigh of relief.

Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

As they reached the base, an elderly woman approached followed by a small group of other women, all different ages and bedecked in elaborate gowns.

“Gentlemen, as the representative and ruling monarch of Alderaan, I greet you. It is an honour to have such esteemed guests within these walls.” She bent slightly forward, her hands clasped together. Xerxies, and Kyros both bowed in return. “I am Queen Alyssa Organa. These are my ladies in waiting. My eyes and ears to the court.”

Xerxies dripped his head as he replied, “Your majesty. It is an honour to meet you. I am Xerxies, Barsen’thor of the—”

“I am aware, my dear,” she said, regarding him with a warm smile. “You are the man I have to thank for bringing peace to my world. You are most welcome in my court. Please, turn for me. I must take in your appearance.”

Puzzled, and feeling a little foolish, Xerxies obliged by giving her a small twirl. His outfit fluttered around him, embellishments catching the light. Beside him, Kyros raised his eyebrows. Behind the Queen, the ladies in waiting as well as a few guests gave small gasps, whispering to one another.

“Magnificent,” the Queen said, raising her arms. “You are a fine beauty, my young man.” She held out her hand. “Please, would you honour this old lady and giver her this first dance?”

Xerxies glanced at Kyros. The bigger man nodded slightly, and he turned back to the Queen, taking her hand which bore many rings.

“Your majesty,” he said, “it will be my pleasure.”

Together, the pair made their way to the centre of the ball room. Watching them, the crowd parted to allow them to through. Though it was mainly comprised of humans, many non-human species were also part of the crowd – Twi’lek, Cerean, Togruta. Zabrak, Nautolans… Even Mon Calamari, Ithorians and Miralukas could be seen. All were dressed in the formal garb of their respective worlds, making the single white-haired man dressed in plain black robes stand out immediately. Standing between a Wookiee and Bothan, he seemed to be staring at the two of them more intently than anyone else, particularly at Xerxies, who felt unnerved at his gaze. However, this could merely have been the fact that his eyes were pure white, without pupil or iris — characteristic hallmarks of a pureblooded Arkanian. Though they were numerous throughout the Republic and occupied a number of worlds throughout the Colonies, Xerxies had only ever encountered a few Arkanians in his life. While not hostile, they were known to be arrogant and haughty, with a proclivity for genetic engineering, hence why so many offshoots of the species existed. One example he recalled was the legendary Jedi Master Arca Jeth, who himself had been an Arkanian/Sephi hybrid. However, this Arkanian was undeniably a pureblood, who clapped his clawed, four-digit hand along with the rest of the crowd as Xerxies and Queen Alyssa reached the dance floor. But when Xerxies turned his head again to search for the black-clad Arkanian, he could no longer see him.

As he and the Queen stood opposite each other, the musicians began to play the Arkanian Waltz. It left him momentarily paralysed. What an odd coincidence that he should spot an Arkanian in the crowd only for the orchestra to play this song! But Xerxies knew the ways of the Force too well to believe in coincidences. He and the Queen bowed then began to move in graceful arcs across the room. The melody rang in Xerxies mind like a long-forgotten memory being given new life. A small smile formed as he took the Queen’s hand as well as the lead. He had never danced the Arkanian Waltz and yet his legs somehow knew what to do. Images flashed though his mind as they danced. An observation deck giving way to a view of a billion stars. The bridge of a Republic vessel. Acres of shimmersilk enwrapping a tall white figure.

The Queen and Xerxies spun like feathers floating in the wind. Elegant, graceful. Ethereal. The jewels and embellishments of both their outfits twinkled in the light which shone from a high window. As the music ebbed and flowed through the room, Xerxies felt as if he was a small child again. The sound of his mother’s voice vibrated in his skull. Though, of course, he’d long forgotten the sound of her voice. He imagined it to be high and clear. As beautiful as bells on a summer morning. At the crescendo of the waltz, he took the Queen by her left hand and pulled her into a twirl, using a small flare of the force to enhance the motion. He lifted her a few inches off the ground then gently let her float back down. He was certain Master Yuon would not approve of this flashy use of the Force but she never understood how nobles, royals especially, often took an unusual joy from such tricks. To them, it was a novelty and served well in function like these.

The Queen’s face betrayed her astonishment and delight as she landed on the floor again. The two bowed one final time which was met with even more applause from the surrounding guests. With that, the ball began.

“Master Xerxies,” the Queen said as the two of them ventured back to their original position. “You are a true darling. You have done us a great service with this dance, and you honour us deeply”

“The honour is all mine your majesty,” Xerxies said. “You are an excellent dance partner.”

They parted, she joining her ladies in waiting to observe the proceedings on a nearby balcony, he searching for Kyros amidst the crowd. Guests milled around him like a swarm of mynocks. He couldn’t find him anywhere. But that wasn’t a problem. Closing his eyes, Xerxies sharpened his perception. He attuned it to look for Kyros’ presence, like tuning a comm channel to a specific frequency. After a moment of navigating the hundreds of sentients in the room, he smiled. Kyros was over by the buffet table.

He made his way in that direction, though it wasn’t easy. Everybody he passed wanted to shake his hand or to speak to him. Some asked for a holopicture to be taken. One enthusiastic Rodian even requested an autograph. It was a truly bizarre experience. Bizarre but, at the same time, enjoyable. It was like he was a celebrity, a star from a film on the holonet. He supposed he should’ve expected this, but even so it was a pleasant surprise to learn just how much the people of the Republic truly appreciated him. That was until he imagined what the Jedi council would say if they could see what was happening. He imagined that they would refrain from scolding him thanks to his status and being in such a public space, but their disapproval would be palpable all the same.

Worst of all was having to refuse people’s invitation to dance, and there were many. One particularly fierce-looking Dowutin female who asked made Xerxies feel as if she might crush him if he said no but might also crush him on the dancefloor if he said yes. He managed to brush them off with a half-invented excuse of urgent “Jedi” business with the Queen or with Kyros to discuss.

At last, he reached the buffet table. Thankfully, Kyros was still there but he wasn’t alone. He was surrounded by a small crowd of his own, all the eyes of which were trained on him. Xerxies could feel his anxiety had elevated again and was evidently searching for an excuse to escape. Smiling slightly, Xerxies decided to come to his rescue. As he moved closer, he could hear what was being said.

“Master Jedi, you look simply ravishing! Who designed your garment?”

“You must come dance with me.”

“No, he must dance with me.”

A tall woman wearing the Thul colours of red and gold, pushed her way through Kyros’ admirers and grabbed onto his hand. Her hair was tightly braided, her features square and austere. Xerxies could not sense the force in her but her appearance reminded him of one too many Sith Inquisitors. Recognising Kyros’ growing need, he moved more quickly, but by the time he reached the buffet table, the Thul woman succeeded in pulling him towards the dancefloor. Kyros caught Xerxies’ gaze briefly, his expression almost comically helpless.

Xerxies stared after him. Normally, he might have found the situation amusing. But seeing the woman holding Kyros’ arm in her black-gloved hand that tightly and proceeding to make him dance with her filled Xerxies with a sense of inexplicable irritation.

No. It was more than that. It was anger.

Now that Kyros was no longer free, his crowd of fans turned towards Xerxies instead, asking if he’d like to dance with one of them. Numb, Xerxies held out a hand and began to circle around the dancefloor with a pink skinned Twi’lek woman who seemed infatuated by his appearance and would not stop talking.

“Everyone says Ryloth is such a wasteland, but it honestly has such beauty in some areas. You must visit some time, Master Jedi! You would be most welcome. My mother and I, we hold yearly balls just like this one, though the guests aren’t nearly as sophisticated or well-mannered as—”

Barely listening, Xerxies craned his neck, doing his best to keep Kyros and the Thul woman in his sights. She was leading, making Kyros twirl her under his enormous arms in a borderline erotic fashion. The sight made Xerxies feel ill. How _dare_ she flaunt him in such a way, as though he were an oversized toy that she desperately wanted to show off! Worse, as the music ended and everyone changed partners, she insisted on staying with Kyros despite what was expected of her. Now in the arms of a Cerean, Xerxies tried to untangle the anger that he felt.

What made him truly angry, he supposed, was that he would never get the chance to dance with Kyros tonight. The two of them were Jedi. They had a duty. At best, they could dance with other guests and open the reception together. That was it. Their code forbade attachment of any kind. If the Baresn’thor and the Hero of Tython were seen dancing together at one of the galaxy’s most prestigious balls, the scandal it would bring down on the order would be catastrophic.

Biting his lip, he recited the Jedi code in his head three times and tried to focus on the music.

_There is no passion, there is serenity._

Eventually, he was able to squash his feelings away, but he knew they were still there. Just put into a small box at the back of his mind. He will have to examine the contents later.

An hour passed before the dancing ceased. Having gone through six consecutive partners and wanting to rest his feet, Xerxies took that opportunity to break away and approach Kyros before anyone else ensnared him. The Thul woman had disappeared and Kyros stood sweating slightly by himself.

“Fancy a walk?” All Kyros could do was nod as the two Jedi broke away from the festivities. “It’s getting dark outside and the gardens look beautiful at night,” Xerxies said. “I heard the Queen bought a number of Arkanian blossoms recently for the winter months.”

Venturing out into the main hallway, they turned right towards a balcony that looked out over a splendid garden illuminated by bio-luminescent flowers. He led Kyros through and shut the door behind them. At last! They were alone.

They stood there watching the garden in silence for a while, the crisp winter air offset only by the heat of the infrared heaters overhead.

“I thought that Thul woman was never going to let go of you,” Xerxies said.

Kyros chuckled. “Nor did I. She was remarkably strong. Thanks for coming to my rescue, by the way.”

“It was nothing.” Xerxies rest his hands on the balcony, his shoulders tense.

“What is it?”

“It’s just…” He sighed and looked up into Kyros’ dark bearded face. “Seeing you with her. I don’t know why, but I had the massive urge to Force pull her away from you.”

Kyros’ green eyes glittered with warmth. “Believe me, I wanted to Force push her away. But I didn’t think many people would like that.”

Hearing this did not reassure Xerxies. “I got the impression,” he said, doing his best to keep his voice level, “you _didn’t_ want to push her away.”

Now Kyros frowned. “Xerx,” he said. “You’re not _jealous_ , are you?”

“It’s just that I hate this!” Xerxies continued, ignoring the question. “The fact that we’re together and can’t show it. I… I thought I would be okay with it but I’m not.”

“You said yesterday you wanted to keep it between us.”

“That was then. But since you told me that we needed to ‘slow down’—”

Kyros sighed with exasperation. “Look, all I meant was that we should take things one step at a time. There’s no need to rush everything.”

“And what are we rushing, Kyros?” His voice echoed across the garden, causing a few peepers to leap away in fright. “Ever since I joined your crew, the moment we laid eyes on each other, I longed for us to be together. I waited and waited and last night my wish came true, despite all the guilt I felt, despite knowing I was against my order’s very principles. And now you tell me that we’re moving too fast?” He rested a hand against his forehead, rubbing his temple. “It just makes me think about the others you’ve been with. Kira, for instance.”

Kyros’ face became guarded. “Don’t talk about her,” he said.

“Why not? You were quick to discard her! Why not me as well?”

Even as he said the words, he regretted them. He felt the hurt rise up in Kyros to show on his dear face. It killed him to see it.

“I didn’t just ‘discard’ her,” he said. “She wanted something from me I couldn’t give. Believe me, I ended it for both our sakes.”

“And what about Scourge?”

His eyebrows shot up. “Scourge?”

“Oh, Kyros, do you seriously think I’m that idiotic? I’ve seen the way he looks at you, the way he speaks to you. I’ve even felt what you feel when the two of you spoke to each other this morning.”

Kyros frowned, but Xerxies knew he wasn’t angry. “That’s different.”

“Is it, though?”

“Yes! Scourge and I… What we’ve been through is complicated, probably more so than with Kira. And I don’t want to discuss it.”

“Fine.” Xerxies folded his arms, furiously gazing out at the vista. Alderaan’s star had now fully set, the sky only now retaining streaks of its orange light among the clouds.

“This isn’t just about me, is it?” Kyros stood to his full height. Complete with his regal ensemble, especially the dark cape that trailed from his right shoulder, he looked mighty, almost god-like. “You forget — I can feel your emotions too. I can sense conflict with you, something that has nothing to do with me.”

“Not everything’s about you,” Xerxies muttered.

“Well, are you going to tell me what it is?”

“Are you going to tell me about you and Scourge?”

Kyros didn’t respond. He merely glared at Xerxies. Below, a slight breeze ruffled through the garden. The sound might’ve been peaceful in any other context. Xerxies missed the sounds of nature. Being stuck on a starship for so long had made him nostalgic for it.

“I do not wish to betray Scourge’s confidence,” Kyros said at last, his voice much lower. “Please don’t ask me to. What he and I shared… It was private. Something he didn’t want me to share with anyone. All you need to know was that it was brief and happened before you came on board. I know you don’t like him much, but he has his struggles too. I was there when he had no one else.”

Xerxies was tempted to ask if that was before or after he broke up with Kira, but the desire to be spiteful was diminishing. The saddened look on Kyros’ face and the remorse he felt broke his heart. If he was really that promiscuous, would he have been feeling this way at all?

“I will not ask you to betray his confidence,” he sighed.

Kyros was grateful. “Thank you.”

His smile melted the last of Xerxies’ resolve.

“You’re right, by the way. There is something I’ve been struggling with, mainly to do with myself.” Kyros leaned in, giving him his full attention. “For a few days now… I don’t know. Something feels different about me. Like I’m not who I appear to be. I look in the mirror, and I hardly recognise myself.” He gazed into his lover’s eyes, hoping against hope that he would understand. “Kyros, I want you to answer me honestly. Do I look human to you?”

Kyros was taken aback. “What kind of question is that?”

“Just answer it, please. It’s important to me.”

Half-smiling, he said, “Well, yes! Of course you do.”

It was what Xerxies wanted to hear but he felt no satisfaction from it. “I said answer me honestly.”

“I am answering honestly.”

He turned away from him, his shoulders hunched. “But how many humans do you know that look like me?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“How many humans,” Xerxies said with careful emphasis, “do you know with eyes like mine, with skin so pale they look artificial, or with hair so red it makes other humans whisper behind their back?”

Kyros sighed and Xerxies was baffled to feel his relief. “So this is what this is all about. You’re insecure about how you look?”

“No!” He rubbed his temple. “Yes? I don’t know.” Hands clenched, he took a calming breath and tried to get his thoughts in order. “I just worry what people think of me. Am I human, or am I… something else?” He looked down at his fingers, noticing the nails growing to their usual sharp point. _Something else that makes me a freak. Humans don’t have claws!_

“What does it matter?” Kyros slipped his arms around his waist and held him tight. “Human or not, you’re perfect to me, Xerx. And all this about your hair and skin? Well, they’re what make you you.” He kissed the crown of his head and Xerxies wanted to cry. “Anyway, you’re more beautiful than any human I’ve met, that’s for damn sure.”

“Kyros,” Xerxies whispered. His name tasted like the sweetest wine. “I lo—”

He stopped, spotting something in the gardens below. A face peering up at them both. Instinctively, he broke from Kyros’ grip and leant against the railing. It was the Arkanian pureblood he’d noticed in the ballroom. His white gaze was fixed on the pair of them.

“What is it?” Kyros was looking out at the garden also, frowning.

“That Arkanian.” Xerxies pointed. “Do you see him?”

“What Arkanian?”

“There! He’s staring right up at—” His words were caught in his throat. He had turned briefly to look at Kyros. But when he turned back, the Arkanian was nowhere to be seen.


	5. Manoeuvring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aboard the Defender, Scourge and Kira speculate about the true nature of Kyros and Xerxies' relationship. As the ball at Castle Organa continues, Kyros is faced with a diplomatic incident which he cannot afford to ignore.

“Have you seen Kyros?”

Kira looked up at Scourge standing in the doorway of her quarters. She was lying on her bed, levitating a silver ornament a few inches above her hand. Even without the Force, Scourge would’ve been able to tell she was in a foul mood. She got like that sometimes. Whenever she and Kyros had a disagreement — and they seemed to be having a lot of them these days — she sometimes locked herself in her quarters for hours, emerging with a look of thunder on her face as she dived into deep broods that could have rivalled Scourge’s own. The mention of her master’s name made her scowl.

“No,” she said. “Why?”

The snappish way she responded didn’t surprise Scourge, but it irritated him nonetheless. “Aren’t Jedi supposed to be able to sense one another at all times?”

“Aren’t Sith supposed to do that as well?”

“If you’re referring to our order, yes. But I haven’t had a master for some time now. If you mean our species, no. Not in the slightest.”

She scoffed and threw the object back and forth between her hands. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I would like to know why exactly we seem to be lingering on Alderaan.”

Her obstinate shrug made him want to strangle her. “Your guess is as good as mine, Scourge. Have you tried looking for him in his quarters?”

“I have. He isn’t there.”

“What about the cockpit or the engine room? Maybe he’s playing Sabacc with T7 and Doc.”

“I have checked both.”

Now she looked puzzled. “Have you checked outside?”

“Yes. I have checked everywhere. He is nowhere to be seen.”

She sat up, giving him a thoughtful look. “Have you asked the others?”

“They haven’t seen him either.” He didn’t bother mentioning how unhelpful the droids had been. As for the Chagrian and the doctor, both were in the latter’s quarters, seething about the lift Kyros failed to give them. “How am I supposed to get to Corellia now?” Doc complained before gesturing at Rusk who was polishing his oversized blaster cannon with furious zeal. “And how’s he supposed to get to Mindor? Neither of us can fly this hunk of junk!”

Kira examined her lap, frowning. “What about Xerxies?”

The sound of the Barsen’thor’s name caused Scourge’s chest to tighten again. “He’s not on the ship, either.”

Her head snapped up. “Neither of them is on the ship?”

“It would appear so.”

“Don’t you think that’s odd?”

“Odd? In what sense?”

Standing up, she began to pace back and forth. “It’s almost as if they’ve left without saying anything on purpose. As if they’ve gone off somewhere together in secret.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” But Scourge could guess. His imagination ran wild as his earlier visions of the two of them resurfaced. Only this time, it came with a spike of rage. Rage… and something else. _Is Kyros really with Xerxies? Then how does he feel about me?_

“Haven’t you noticed?” Kira asked. “The two of them have been best buddies since Xerxies came aboard this ship. They’ve got so close that they agree on everything, to the point where Kyros would do something completely out of character just to be in his good books.”

“He is the Barsen’thor,” Scourge mumbled half-heartedly.

“He and Xerxies are the same rank,” she said. “He has no authority over Kyros. Yet Kyros seems to do everything he suggests. It’s almost as if—” She paused, drumming her fingers against her lips. “He’s trying to sabotage us.”

Scourge blinked in surprise. “Sabotage?”

“Oh, Scourge, don’t be dense!” She put her hands on her hips. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? The Sith Jewellery. The fancy garments. The almost manipulative way he deals with people. He’s an Imperial spy!”

He stared at her a moment, not sure whether to take her seriously or not. “I don’t think that’s likely.”

“How do you know? He could be a Sith Lord putting a spell on Kyros, making him blind to judgement and caution.”

“I would’ve sensed it.”

“Then perhaps he’s clouding your vision too.”

He folded his arms. “Then he would have to be one powerful Sith sorcerer, one who would’ve had to hoodwink the entire Jedi Order into making him the Barsen’thor, including Grandmaster Satele Shan, and perform this entire charade of saving multiple planets just to maintain his disguise. Now, I don’t think much of your Jedi wisdom, your council and your code, but even I believe they aren’t that foolish.”

She stared at him a moment then, sighing, let her arms fall to her sides. “You’re right,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m just… I’ve not been thinking straight. Lately, I just haven’t been feeling myself.”

Turning away from him, Scourge stared at her back, wondering what he was supposed to say to that. She glared at him over her shoulder.

“This is the part where you go ‘there, there, Kira.’”

“You really are foolish to think I’d give you a shoulder to cry on.”

“And I love you too, Scourge. Geez.” Despite her words, she smirked. “Anyway, I think it’s pretty obvious the two of them are up to something.”

“Agreed,” Scourge said, stroking his cheek tendrils. Should he tell her his own suspicions? No. She’d probably laugh at him and he wasn’t sure he could come up with a convincing answer as to why he thought they were in a secret relationship. It was odd. Scourge could lie just about anything, having spent three centuries deceiving the Sith Emperor. But when it came to this, the up-close and personal, it was a lot more difficult to hide the truth. Especially with these emotions. Emotions that were so… so _strong_. It was like what he heard an Imperial Admiral dictate to his subordinate almost a century ago, “Dreadnaughts can hide many secrets, but freighters have no privacy.”

“So, where do you think they’ve gone to?” Kira asked, sitting back down on the bed. “Somewhere to get drunk on Mandalorian wine, perhaps?”

“The Barsen’thor said he was going to a ball,” Scourge said.

“Ah, yes.” Her look soured; “I remember. He was very well dressed for it, too.”

“Kyros could’ve gone with him.”

She shook her head. “Why would he do that? He hates going to large functions. Even after he earned his title as Hero of Tython, he hid up in his room to meditate instead of meeting and greeting people like he was supposed to. It’s just not his thing.”

Scourge frowned. “You seem to know an awful lot about him.”

Her cheeks reddened. “Of course I do! He’s my master.”

But Scourge thought he knew better. “Except the two of you have always seemed close, even for a master and apprentice. Not to mention how close the two of you are in age…”

“What are you implying?” Her expression became very guarded. To Scourge, it was as good as a confession.

“You and he have been… _involved_ with one another.”

At first it seemed she was going to deny it. Then her face sagged, and she sighed again. “I didn’t realise it was that obvious.”

Even though he’d guessed the truth, hearing her say it forced Scourge to turn away for a second to collect himself. Kyros had been with _her_ too? Now he was doubly confused. And angry. In that vision he’d had all those years ago, he saw not only the Hero of Tython defeating the Emperor, but he, Scourge, forming a bond with him. A bond that went deeper than skin. Deeper than spirit. That night in the cockpit, the night Kyros refused to talk about with him despite Scourge’s best efforts. It had been the best night of Scourge’s life. He was shocked and, he hated to admit this to himself, hurt to learn the Jedi did not seem to feel the same way. He had tossed aside the event as if it were embarrassing, even shameful. While Scourge was under no delusion that a relationship would blossom between them — he wasn’t even sure he wanted one — he would’ve appreciated at least a small acknowledgement that it had _happened_ and wasn’t just a wonderful dream. It made him feel used.

“I’m not even sure how it happened,” Kira said, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes. “We spent time on Tython, then moved onto the Coruscant and Ord Mantel. He was so kind to me. So protective. Next thing I knew, we were stealing secret kisses and spending lots of time together alone in his quarters. We tried to fight our feelings for one another. We were Jedi — it was our duty to stay true to our code. Any day, I expected him to end it, saying that it wouldn’t be practical for things to carry on. Everyone would find out eventually. But he didn’t. We just kept going and just when I thought we were going to be with each other for a long time he just—” She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “He told me he couldn’t handle being with me. I was ‘too damaged’. And then I realised that was all he ever saw me as — a frightened girl looking for someone to fix her. Well, he played the part well for a while. Until he decided he didn’t want to anymore.”

A long pause stretched between them. To his surprise, Scourge found himself moving from the door to sit beside her on the bed.

“You feel betrayed,” he said. “Abandoned. As if he had you to satisfy an itch and, once it was, moved on.”

“Yes,” she sniffed. “That’s exactly how it feels.” She squinted at him. “I never knew you had experience in this.”

“More than you know,” he said.

She laughed. “I suppose you have been around long enough.” Twiddling her fingers in her lap, she said, “I don’t know what to do, Scourge. I don’t know how to handle what I’m feeling. I think… I think I still _love_ Kyros. It makes me feel like such a doormat. How can I feel that strongly towards him when he’s treated me so badly?”

Scourge wished he had the answer to that one too.

“We should confront him,” he said. “Him and Xerxies.”

“Confront them? How?”

Without quite knowing why, he smiled. “I think,” he said, “we should pay them a little visit. Let’s see if we can’t use our collective talents to gatecrash this little party of theirs.” 

*

Darkness had settled over the Organa’s Castle, but the festivities showed no sign of stopping. Kyros sat, a glass of Corellian wine in one hand, observing the guests as they drank, danced and debated drunkenly on issues they knew nothing about. Beside him, the senator of Ryloth was discussing with the Archduke of Doan how he planned to propose a new law on his homeworld that would “make Ryloth a power to be reckoned with”. The enormous Twi’lek seemed oblivious that he was being glared at by the Hero of Tython, Jedi Master, Champion of the People, Liberator of Belsavis and saviour to many other worlds including the one on which they both now stood.

“The senate has underestimated Ryloth for too long,” the senator rambled, hiccuping as he swigged some more ale. “But with this new law, there will be a reckoning. I won’t say anymore just now… Top secret, you know? All I will say is that it involves tougher regulations and more reliance on Twi’lek forces to police our borders.”

Revolted, Kyros looked away. Any other night and he might have challenged the senator. But this was not any other night. The conversation he’d had with Xerxies still rattled through his mind.

_I saved the Galaxy but wreck every relationship I have._

As soon as they had departed the balcony, Xerxies declared there was something he had to do before disappearing with a swish of his train. Where he was going, Kyros didn’t know. Probably to do something diplomatic. Either way, he was all too happy to be left alone with his thoughts. He brushed aside further admirers and found this seat where he intended to remain for the rest of the evening. He shouldn’t have come here. Why had he allowed Xerxies to drag him along? All he’d wanted was for them to spend some quality time together. And yet, here they both were, at a party neither of them wanted to be at, separated. He could feel his lover’s own roiling emotions on the other side of the castle. Perhaps he was trying to compartmentalise their discussion in his own way. Maybe he was even formulating a plan to break up with Kyros. The thought made him sick, more so than when he decided to end things with Kira. Barely a whole day together and already he’d screwed it up.

He didn’t want to end things with Xerxies. Xerxies made him feel like nobody else had. Every time he held him, all he wanted to do was protect him, to keep him warm and safe in his arms. While he was far from vulnerable, Kyros would do anything to keep Xerxies safe. He would die for him. No question. When he’d almost perished at the hands of Darth Malgus on Ilum and Xerxies had been there to heal him, he knew that the two of them were destined for each other. He felt it even in the Force. They were meant to be. They belonged. And yet his own romantic history was threatening to tear it all up. Kyros couldn’t blame Xerxies. Even he was surprised with how things turned out with Kira. But never in a million years would he have guessed that he knew about Scourge, too.

Sighing, he stood up, thinking about slipping away back to the _Defender_. He no longer cared if he had to face the ire of his crew. This was Xerxies' arena. Not his. He would head to Tython and meditate. Clear his mind of all these confusing thoughts.

“Not leaving, are we?”

The Thul woman whom Kyros had danced with earlier appeared in front of him. The smell of her perfume attacked his nostrils as she smiled at him. Even though the two had been inches from each other on the dancefloor, only now did Kyros examine her face more closely. She was certainly attractive enough with high cheekbones and dark, alluring eyes, but every instinct he possessed told him to stay away.

“I’m afraid so,” he said.

She pouted. “But I was hoping that we could, perhaps, have one more dance together. The Lady of Thul with the Hero of Tython. They’ll be talking about that one for ages.” Her hand snaked along his chest, toying with the fold of his collar. She was so close that he could smell her sweet breath. He remembered the way her nails had dug into his arms as they danced, the way she’d jerked him around the ballroom as if he were a sack of nerf dung.

“I think,” he said, removing her hand, “that would be a mistake.”

Her pout turned into a look of cold surprise. He doubted anyone had ever had the nerve to reject her before. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Did I do something wrong?”

_Only created a rift between me and the love of my life._

“I am a Jedi,” he said. “It is against our code to fraternise with diplomats.”

“Is it also against your code to have fun?” she said, cranking up her seductive smile. “It’s only a _dance_ , Master Jedi. Perfect, harmless fun. No fraternising involved. Besides, you didn’t seem to mind earlier.”

“You didn’t exactly give me a choice.”

She laughed. “I did get a little carried away, didn’t I?”

“I’m afraid the answer’s still no.”

He tried to side-step her, but she got in his way. “I would consider it a great honour,” she said, her hand once again exploring his collar, “if you obliged me with a dance. After all, I am the matriarch of the house of Thul. I may be new to my position, but I am not ignorant of the fact that the relationship between your order and my house is somewhat of stressed. Would you dare risk souring things further?”

“You allied yourself with the Empire.”

“In a time of _war_ , Master Jedi. And in a time of war, sacrifices need to be made.”

“You consider it a sacrifice,” Kyros said, eyebrows raised in incredulity, “to flirt with the enemy? To seize Alderaan’s throne for your yourself?”

“Now, now, you make it sound perverse! I won’t lie, my sister may have been overzealous in her efforts to ensure peace for our world. Mistakes were made, to be sure. But House Organa has graciously accepted our apologies and kindly invited us into their household this evening as a gesture of friendship. Can’t the Jedi let bygones be bygones and do the same?”

Smile still plastered on her face, she held out her hand. Had she any Force sensitivity, she would have guessed that his hesitation had nothing to do with the Jedi’s relationship with her house. Still, she had a point. This was more than just an invitation to dance. Dare he risk another civil war?

Sighing, he took her hand in his. “I will indulge you in one dance,” he said. “And that is all.”

“Of course,” she said as she led him towards the dance floor, her scarlet dress sweeping the polished floor. “One dance is all I ask.”


	6. Heritage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once Xerxies confronts the man who has been stalking him all night, he learns some unsettling truths about his past and emerges from the encounter with more than he bargained for. 
> 
> **WARNING: This chapter contains assault and attempted rape**

_You’re here somewhere._

The cool air whipped at Xerxies’ train as he navigated through the Organa’s gardens. He could feel the presence of the Arkanian he’d spotted from the balcony, but it was fully dark by now, making it difficult to spot him. Regardless, his mind lingered on the conversation he’d just had with Kyros. No matter how many times he recited the Jedi Code, his turbulent emotions would not abate. Perhaps that was what was affecting his ability to sense the elusive stranger accurately. He could clearly feel Kyros brooding somewhere inside the castle, his presence much crisper and clearer than the other guests who were like dim headlamps in a fog. This Arkanian, on the other hand…

_Why does he hide in the shadows? What does he want?_

A couple of times, he thought he saw a dark shape flit through the bushes behind him. He turned and rushed in that direction only to find another flowering shrub. Frustrated, he was on the verge of demanding the stranger to show himself when he saw him dead ahead at the entrance of the hedge maze.

“Who are you?” Xerxies said, moving forward to meet him. “What is it you want?”

The Arkanian, smiling, entered the maze. Xerxies heard his running footsteps fading into the night.

“Wait!”

He hurried after him, feeling the air grow incredibly close and still as the hedges rose several feet above his head. Feet crunching on the gravel, he turned right, then left, right, left again. Within minutes, he was hopelessly lost. He stopped, straining his ears to listen for anymore footsteps. Either the Arkanian had left the maze or Xerxies had taken the wrong direction. He clenched his fist, furious with himself. One moment of passion and he’d allowed it to go to his head! How was he supposed to find the mysterious Arkanian now?

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

Closing his eyes, he summoned all his Jedi discipline and reached out. After half a minute of searching, he found him. The Arkanian was in the centre of the maze. Waiting for him. Navigating his perception, Xerxies made his way quickly but calmly, as quiet as dead leaves brushing against duracrete.

The Arkanian stood with his hands held behind his back on top of a gigantic mosaic depicting the seal of Organa. He was still smiling as Xerxies appeared, his white eyes giving nothing away.

“Master Jedi,” he said. “I’m glad you decided to join me.”

Xerxies circled him, one hand close to his lightsabre. Though he felt no danger, this was the ideal place to set a trap and he wasn’t taking any chances.

“Who are you?” he said. “Why did you lure me here?”

The Arkanian raised his clawed, four-digit hands. “My name is Jyrak Pol. I brought you to the centre of this maze so I can talk to you. With everyone admiring the Barsen’thor, it’s difficult to have a discreet conversation.”

“Well, you couldn’t get more discreet than here.”

“Naturally.”

“So, what do you want with me?”

“I wanted,” Pol said with a theatrical edge, “to discuss your heritage.”

Xerxies felt his heartbeat quicken. “My… my heritage?”

“From what I understand, all Jedi are accepted to train from a very early age.”

“That is correct.”

“Tell me, then. Have you ever not wondered about your mother and father?”

It was as if the Arkanian had been reading his mind. Could Arkanians read minds? He wasn’t sure. Either way, Xerxies closed off his thoughts and kept a neutral expression, the same he adopted under any diplomatic situation.

"We are encouraged not to enquire behind our familial history,” he said. “It clouds the mind and forms attachments which can lead down a dangerous path.”

“Your order tells you that,” the Arkanian said, amused, “but that hasn’t stopped you from wondering, has it? After all, it’s only natural, wanting to know where you came from. It’s an important part of who you are.”

These words rang true to Xerxies, but his steely façade did not waver. “But why are you interested in my heritage in particular?”

The Arkanian took a step closer. This simple motion sent a current along the skin of Xerxies neck, the sort he’d normally associate with the Force warning him of an impending threat. However, he still felt no ill-will from Jyrak Pol. Only sincerity.

“Because I knew her”

“Knew her? Knew who?”

“Your mother. And your father.”

For a long minute, they simply stared at each other. Xerxies felt as if the maze had enfolded upon them, or that Alderaan itself had been obliterated from existence. Memories floated to the surface of his mind, but they were hazy, showing only occasional images and sounds, dancing through his head like corrupt holofiles.

“I was a young man at the time,” Pol went on. “No more than thirteen years old. An apprentice to one of the engineers”

“Tell me. Who were they?”

The Arkanian gestured for him to sit on a stone bench beside a wall mounted fountain. Xerxies hesitated then, train whispering against the ground, he settled there, hands folded in his lap. Pol sat beside him, looking pained. Close to, Xerxies saw for the first time how handsome he was. He was older, yes, but his features were finely carved, and the whites of his eyes weren’t as blank as they might appear. There was a melancholy in them that betrayed a life of anguish and unanswered questions. It compelled Xerxies to want to help him in some way. If he could.

“Your mother’s name was Eliz’xhu Androxida,” Pol said. “Your father’s was Thadius. We all served onboard the Republic Science vessel, _Discovery_. She was a talented geneticist while he was a skilled terraformer. Together they worked to further the Telos Project and ensure the planet's stability.”

“Are they… still alive?”

“I’m afraid I do not know. The _Discovery_ went missing a long time ago. It was set on a course for Taris in an effort to help reclaim it for the Republic, just like Telos. But that was the last anyone saw it. It never arrived at its destination. No debris, no distress call. Nothing. It’s as if it simply vanished into deep space.”

Xerxies’ chest tightened. “How long ago did this happen?”

“More than twenty standard years.” At the sight of Xerxies’ face sinking in disappointment, Pol said, “I’m sorry. This must not be easy for you to hear. Most likely their ship was commandeered by space pirates. It was common back in those days. But even then, there would have been traces. The _Discovery_ is simply missing. And that’s that.”

Nodding, Xerxies reigned in his emotions and took a deep breath. “My mother was Arkanian,” he said. “Wasn’t she?”

Pol dipped his head. “She was indeed. A fine woman. The kindest, most intelligent person I’d ever met. She always explored every point of view in an argument. But she was fair and stern when the occasion called for it. She would’ve made an excellent politician except, she always told me, she wasn’t greedy enough to be a politician.” He laughed a little. “Imagine how she would look at me now, an ambassador of our homeworld. I may not be a senator, but give it time, and I might well be worthy of her scorn.”

“If you were on board the _Discovery_ with my parents,” Xerxies said, “then how do I have no memory of you?”

“I was transferred just before you were born. I’m sad to say that I never got to meet you. Not until tonight, anyway.” Pol pushed back his long white hair which caught the moonlight in an almost supernatural way. “And you are truly magnificent. Just like she was.”

Xerxies raised an eyebrow. He could sense desire in the man, but it was an old one, one he knew had not surfaced for many years. “You had feelings for her.”

“I did. A foolish teenage crush as the ship’s chief engineer put it. It is… difficult to not feel it again. There is so much of her in your face.”

He was staring at Xerxies in a way he knew he should have found off-putting. Instead, he blushed at this infatuated attention. It wasn’t just because this man had a close connection to his past, although that in itself made him pretty alluring, but because he really was quite handsome. Beautiful, in fact. Part of it, he knew, was down to the Arkanian’s love of genetic engineering. No doubt Jyrak Pol was a result of some other Arkanian’s idea of the perfect humanoid form. Still, modified or not, his stare sent a thrill through Xerxies’ body, one he had not expected to feel upon learning the identity of tonight’s stalker. 

Clearly, Pol felt the same way. He rested a hand on Xerxies’ own. He let it linger for perhaps half a second before pulling it away.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “There is just so much of you that looks like her.”

Xerxies could now feel his breath on him. He hadn’t noticed how close they’d got. A conflict welled in the pit of his stomach as he felt his hand climb up Jyrak’s arm.

“I—”

Pol pushed a finger to his lips. “Hush now.”

Xerxies’ stomach lurched as Jyrak’s kissed him. It was so sudden and so shocking that it was as if the Arkanian had splashed cold water in his face. There was nothing passionate about the kiss. It was full of old forgotten lust and desires left to fester. Nothing like kissing Kyros.

_Kyros…_

He pulled away, jumping from the bench with a hand over his mouth. What was he doing?

“We can’t,” he said. “I’m sorry, we can’t.”

Jyrak Pol got to his feet, brow creasing with further anguish. “Why not?”

“Because I—” Xerxies had no idea what to say. That he was in love with another man? Another Jedi? That it went against the very foundations of his religion? “It’s just… I don’t know you.”

Clasping his upper arms, Jyrak smiled. “I would like you to get to know me. I certainly want to get to know you.”

“No.” Xerxies pushed him away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here.”

The Arkanian’s hands found him again, and this time his grip was tighter, the claw-like fingers digging into Xerxies’ flesh. “Don’t you see? I want you to get to know me, just like your mother did. She was very fond of me, you see. I think you’d be fond of me too.”

“Please, take your hands off me.”

“You’ll love me, I promise.”

“Let me go!”

The desire burned within the Arkanian like a sun about to go nova. Once again, holding him with a grip Xerxies would not have believed possible, he pushed his white lips onto his own. He tried to shove him off but Jyrak was too strong. His ugly alien hands were touching Xerxies in places that sickened him, reaching into his shirt, down his trousers…

“I said stop!”

“Shhh, Eliz’xhu my love.”

He felt the Arkanian’s hand close around his throat,

"NO!”

Using the Force, Xerxies propelled the Arkanian backwards through the air, the surrounding shrubbery rustling as if hit by an enormous gust of wind. Jyrak cried out as he flew over the stone bench, his body crunching into the stone wall beneath the fountain. His face did not look quite so handsome anymore. His white hair lie tangled over his face which was twisted in a look of mingled pain, confusion and rage.

It was wiped clean a second later when Xerxies drew out his lightsabre and activated it. The shimmering viridian blade made Jyrak recoil slightly, his expression now warped by fear.

“P-please,” he said. “Don’t hurt me! I never meant—”

Xerxies raised his weapon until it was inches away from Jyrak’s chin.

“You wish to know me, Arkanian?” he boomed in a voice unlike his own. “Very well. I am Xerxies Androxida. Jedi Master and Barsen’thor. Whole planets owe me their livelihoods, and I have cut down greater men than you give it to them. Which is why I will not hesitate in cutting off your hands if you ever presume to touch me again.”

With that, he withdrew from the scene, deactivating his blade only until he was sure he could no longer hear Jyrak’s ragged breaths. Some of the hair in his bun had come loose, falling in front of his eyes. He distractedly brushed it back as he navigated his way out of the maze. Every now and then, he glanced behind him in case the Arkanian was following but there was no sign of the slithering creature and, for his sake, Xerxies hoped he would never see him again.

_Kyros, I’m so sorry._

Circlet askew, he exited the maze and began running towards the castle just as a few flecks of snow lay cold kisses against his cheeks. He kept stumbling over the length of his train and had to bunch it up in his hands just to keep a steady pace. The balls of his feet were on fire. Why! Why did he decide to wear such painful footwear? Coming here tonight had been a mistake. He would collect Kyros and the two of them would head back to the _Defender_. Even though they had lodgings with the Organa’s, Xerxies knew he couldn’t spend another minute within their walls.

He came to a halt in a clearing, the snow already blanketing the floor and collecting on his hair and shoulders. On one side he could hear the music and laughter inside the palace, and on the other he could hear the cold, empty breeze of the night air. Each brush of it left a sting on his skin. His heart raced, beating like it wanted to escape his rib cage. The more he tried to calm himself, the harder it became to do so. Tears formed in his eyes and froze on his cheeks he fell to his knees. The sharp pain of them hitting the stone ground was a reminder he was alive, no matter how much he wished the dirt beneath would swallow him whole. His mouth opened as if to release a scream of pain and anguish but only silence escaped.

“There is no emotion…” He couldn’t finish. He stared up at Alderaan’s moon above, his heart screaming to be released from this day. “Peace is a lie, there is only passion! Is that what you wanted me to say?”

The moon continued to shine, heedless.

Shivering, he stumbled to his feet and made his way back into the palace. Barging past a servant droid who squawked in protest as it nearly dropped a tray of canapés, he headed towards the ballroom. He could sense Kyros there, feeling oddly distracted but also calm. Could he not detect Xerxies’ distress? Surely, at the first sign of trouble, he would have come running!

The answer to that became very clear the second he burst into the room.

A large crowd had formed once again around the dance floor. Xerxies knew, without even needing to look, who it was everyone was looking at, but he had to see it with his own eyes. Pushing his way forward, he made it to the front of the crowd and for the second time that evening, the galaxy seemed to crumble around him.

Kyros was dancing to the Arkanian waltz, arms clutched tightly around the Lady of House Thul. This time, the big Jedi wasn’t being led around in clumsy circles, nor did he look particularly alarmed at having been made an involuntary dance partner to this woman. In fact, his expression was quite serene, pleasant even as he and Thul twirled and audience members gasped and whispered, “Oh, how lovely!”

His heart clenched.

_Kyros is not yours._

Anger such as he’d never felt rose inside him, his fist clenching at his side. Glancing to his left, he noticed a nearby table where guests had placed their finished glasses had begun to shake. Uncurling his fingers, he approached the edge of the balcony to look. Cloaked by the dark of the alcove, he watched as the Thul woman spun towards the crescendo of the waltz.

_Not. Yours._

With the flick of his wrist he snapped his middle finger and thumb. On the dance floor, a gust of air tripped the Thul woman mid-spin. She cried out as she tottered and landed into a nearby chocolate fountain. The sound of her scream pierced through the music. At first, Xerxies thought she was despairing at how her expensive gown was now ruined, and this made him smile.

_It was an ugly garment to begin with. Consider it a favour._

But her cries didn’t stop. Confused, he peered down at the wreckage of the fountain and the Thul woman laying splayed on the floor, surrounded by concerned party goers, including Kyros who was helping her to her feet. With a cold thrill, he saw that she was limping, her face streaked with tears.

She had broken her ankle.

Turning, he darted through a nearby door, rushing through empty corridors until finally exiting to the plaza outside the front of the palace. The water in the grand fountain was frozen, the lights still shimmering from it like a ghostly chandelier. He barely felt the cold as he waded through the snow. He began to cry again. He had betrayed the Jedi Code. He had betrayed himself.

But worst of all, he had betrayed Kyros.

What a jealous, loathsome little creature he was. What right did he have to feel this way? He wasn’t even fully human. He was a hybrid. A freak.

“Xerxies!”

Kyros was marching towards him, his large feet making the snow crunch beneath him. Had this been a better time, Xerxies might have been glad to see him. Except Kyros was angry. He felt it radiate from him, so strong that it could’ve melted the snow or even halted the blizzard that grew all around them.

“What did you do?!” Kyros demanded.

“I—” Xerxies was unsure what to say, how to explain himself. “I didn’t mean for her to get hurt, I—”

The bigger Jedi towered over him as he said in a low rumble, “You just injured one of the most important people on Alderaan. One of the most important diplomats in the Republic! You could have sparked another civil war. _Why_? Why did you do it?”

“I just— I saw her dancing with you and the next thing I knew—” Sobs stifled his voice as a fresh wave of grief overtook him. “I lost control,” he said when he was able to speak again. “I couldn’t bare seeing you in her arms.”

Kyros glowered down at him but after a moment, his expression softened slightly. “Hopefully, nobody noticed that it was the Force that snapped her heel. It could well have been shoddy synthweaving.”

“Kyros.” Xerxies wiped his frozen cheeks. “We can’t go on like this. You and me. We’re no good for each other. I think tonight has demonstrated that.”

Panic rose up in Kyros as his eyes widened in alarm. “Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true! If I lose it over seeing you dance with somebody else, then it’s pretty obvious that I just can’t handle you being with other people.”

“What are you talking about?” Kyros squinted at him. “Something’s happened, hasn’t it? When you and I were separated.”

Shame unexpectedly held Xerxies in a choke hold. The areas of his skin where Jyrak Pol had touched him seemed to burn like fire.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “It was nothing.”

“What happened, Xerxies?”

“I told you, nothing.”

"Don’t lie to me!” Kyros’ voice would’ve echoed across the plaza had the snow not swallowed it up. “Xerxies,” he said, his voice full of despair. “I thought… I thought you and I were different. I thought we wouldn’t hide any secrets from each other. Please, talk to me. What’s bothering you?”

How could he tell him? How could he tell him without Kyros abandoning him on this forsaken planet out of disgust?

“I can’t,” he whispered, his voice choking again. “I’m sorry.” Kyros’ arms wrapped around him, but he pulled away. “Please, Kyros, just… Just leave me alone.”

“I won’t,” he said in his gruff, determined voice. “I won’t, Xerxies.”

“I said leave me _alone_!”

The snow around them rippled as a powerful wave of pure Force energy hit Kyros in the chest. He flew backwards, much like Jyrak had. He rolled over and over, hitting the stone so hard that it cracked. Xerxies watched as, wincing, Kyros sat up on the floor. His eyes were full of something Xerxies had never seen before.

Fear.

The air around them grew silent as they regarded each other.

“Where were you,” Xerxies demanded at last, “when I needed you?”

Kyros looked confused. “I don’t understand.”

“When I needed you most, you weren’t there for me. While I was his prey, you were dancing in her arms.” Xerxies hands grabbed at the fold of his garment where the Arkanian had torn it. Understanding came into Kyros’ eyes.

“Xerx,” he said. “What happened to you?”

But Xerxies didn’t respond right away. His head was full of what happened in the maze. Surely, Kyros could detect how he felt by now. “I’m a freak.”

“What?”

Xerxies looked him straight in the eyes. “I’m only half human. That’s what he said. The Arkanian. He said my mother was Arkanian. That she was beautiful. That I am beautiful. He...”

Jumping to his feet, Kyros leapt to his feet and rushed towards him. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry. Forgive me. I didn’t know, I was—” He swallowed. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. I promise I won’t leave you like that again”

“It’s not okay. I hurt him, badly. Then I hurt her. We can’t be together. The Masters were right. Love and emotion lead to the Dark—”

“No!” Kyros shook his head. “No, no, no.” He took both of Xerxies hands. “Love leads to happiness. And in the darkness, there is light. One cannot exist without the other. Right now, in this moment, here in front of this fountain. I will be the light in the darkness you have fallen into. Let me be that light.”

Xerxies hesitated.

“Please,” Kyros begged, squeezing his fingers. “You don’t have to be alone in this. I can help you.”

Slowly, Xerxies pulled his hands away. “I do not deserve this.” He found his lightsabre hilt and held it towards himself, his thumb resting on the activator.

“Xerxies, what are you doing?”

“I’m a freak. I always have been.”

“Xerxies, please. Give me your hand”

“It’s all clear to me now. The Sith are right. _Peace is a lie. The Force shall set me free._ ” He raised the emitter towards his heart.

“No!” The sabre hilt jerked from his hand and flew towards Kyros’ who caught it. Anger once again flared inside Xerxies and with a snarl, he lunged at him.

“Give it to me!”

“No.”

“ _Give it to me, Kyros!_ You won’t take this from me!” He clawed and scratched for it, his nails tearing the sleeve of his lover’s beautiful garment, the garment _he_ made for him. The primal noises that escaped him faded into renewed sobbing. He fell once more to his knees, the cold instantly numbing them. The air seemed full of it, the deafening sound of his own despair.

At last, Kyros scooped him into his embrace. For the first time, Xerxies felt how grieved he was. How saddened.

“When you’re with me,” he whispered. “I will always protect you. Understand? Even from yourself.”

“Kyros…” His voice was frozen in his throat. “Why?”

“Because.” He felt his fingers stroke his hair. So broad yet so tender. “I love you.” Hoisting Xerxies into his arms, he carried him back towards the castle into the warmth.


	7. Dark vs. Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kira and Scourge infiltrate the Organa's stronghold while Kyros contemplates why he could not sense what happened to Xerxies.

They were perhaps half a kilometre from the main gates of the Organa’s palace when Scourge felt it. He came to a halt, shin-deep in the snow that built up all around him, his red eyes wide with shock.

No. It couldn’t be.

“Scourge?” Kira turned towards him, teeth chattering as she huddled herself. Even though they were wrapped up in winter gear, the cold was as biting as it had been on Hoth. “What is it?”

He turned to her. “You didn’t feel it?”

“Feel what?”

How could he put it into words? “A cold sting in the Force.”

She smiled sardonically. “Probably just the weather.”

“No,” he said, scowling. “It was a burst of Dark Side power. It came from up ahead. Towards the palace.”

All humour dropped from her face. “You mean… there’s a Dark Side user?” Her gaze turned towards the collection of lights just beyond sight in the darkness behind the curtain of snow.

“I’m certain of it.” Scourge tried to analyse what had just transpired. He had been wading through this infernal blizzard which had built up alarmingly quickly since they’d walked here from the spaceport and then, like a knife sliding between his ribs, his perception detected the unmistakable presence of someone strong in the Dark Side. It was there and it was gone.

“I can sense something,” Kira muttered. “But it’s like a blanket. I feel the Dark Side but it’s hard to pinpoint exactly where.” She looked back at him, worried. “Do you think there could be a Sith among them?”

Scourge shook his head. “What I felt was raw and untamed. Whoever used it is inexperienced in the Dark Side.” He squinted, sharpening his perception. There had been something familiar about that presence. It made him think of gold shimmersilk and a crown of moonstones. Underneath lie a bed of anger, guilt and infinite despair. His eyes snapped open. “Xerxies…”

Kira looked shocked. “Xerxies? Xerxies used the Dark Side?”

“I’m not sure.” He was sure; he just didn’t want to make Kira’s imagination run away with her.

“Scourge,” she said, once again sounding serious, “if you’re right, do you realise what this means? It means what I said earlier could be true. What if Xerxies,” she whispered, “is _Sith_?”

He ran his tongue over his teeth. “Unlikely.”

“Oh, come on, Scourge! If he’s using the Dark Side—”

“Sith are not the only faction that use the Dark Side.”

“Then what else could it be?”

He scowled. “I don’t know. But whatever it was, we need to proceed with caution. What I felt just now was powerful. Too powerful. If we encounter it, it could prove our match.”

Kira nodded then shivered. “Let’s just hope we get there soon.”

They marched on, trudging through the snow at a steady pace. Even though Scourge relied on the Dark Side to help keep his body warm, even he was starting to feel the bite of the wind. It was especially harsh on his skin, being from a species that had evolved on a desert planet. Alderaan was not Korriban. Then again, he’d been to colder places in the Galaxy. Ilum and Hoth, just to name a few. Just like how those two worlds were unlike each other, however, Alderaan was something else again. There was a cleanness to this snow. A purity. On Hoth, and even on Ilum, it took little imagination to see the Dark Side thrive on such a world. Here, it was but a fantasy. How could the Dark Side exist on a world as beautiful as this? And yet it almost had during the civil war.

 _Alderaan is untouched by the Dark Side_ , Lord Scourge thought. _Just like Tython. And that will be its undoing._

“Do you think we’re doing the right thing?” Kira said after a long silence. “Going after Kyros and Xerxies like this?”

The question was so absurd that Scourge could hardly believe she had asked it.

“I’ve never thought myself much of a being who does the right thing,” he said.

“Right. Sith Lord and all. I forget sometimes.”

“You’d do well to remember. Your Master never does. And he’s wise to keep close tabs on me, as I frequently tell him.”

The mention of Kyros made her mouth thin. “You make it sound like you’re going to turn on us.”

“Not at all. I was merely commenting on Kyros’ wisdom. Something he seems to have lost over these past couple of days.”

“Almost like he’s possessed,” Kira said, nodding. “Bet Xerxies put him under some Sith spell or something. Utterly crushing his will to make him obey his every command.”

“Only the Emperor has that power,” Scourge said, not amused. “And it is not to be taken lightly.”

“ _Has_?” She frowned. “Do you mean ‘had’? From what I remember, Kyros put Vitiate squarely in the past tense.”

“Of course,” Scourge said. “A mere slip of the tongue.”

Soon, the gates of the palace loomed into view. They could make out two royal guards cloaked in heavy winter gear standing either side of it. Neither had seen them yet. Perfect. Reaching towards his belt, Scourge drew his lightsabre and was on the point of activating it when Kira said, “What are you _doing_?”

He looked at her, confused. “What does it look like?”

“Listen,” she said, sternly. “You and Kyros might have carved your way out of a few sticky situations but that was in a time of war. Alderaan is at peace now. You can’t just slice open the doormen.”

“Then how do you propose we get in?”

“Simple.”

He watched, astonished, as she made her way towards the front gate unabashed as though she were an invited guest. Predictably, the guards spotted her and raised their weapons. Rushing to catch up, Scourge stopped just behind Kira as they shouted: “Halt! State your business.”

Kira raised a hand. “You’ll let us through the gates. You have seen nothing.”

For a second nothing happened, until, miraculously, the guards lowered their rifles, a dazed look coming over both their faces.

“We’ll let you through the gates,” the righthand guard said. “We saw nothing.”

He turned and pushed a few buttons on a console. There was a loud clunk and the gates opened just wide enough for two people to slip through. Kira gestured and they slipped into the main courtyard unopposed, the door clanking shut behind them.

“I forgot the Jedi could do that,” he mumbled. “And you accuse the Sith of controlling minds.”

She looked slightly peeved. “I simply nudged them. That’s all.”

“Didn’t look like that from where I was standing.”

“Let’s just keep moving, okay?”

Together, they made their way across the courtyard. To their surprise, although they could hear music coming from within, they met nobody as they slipped through the arched entrance and entered the palace itself. Perhaps the evening was winding down, or perhaps the Organa household no longer felt there was any need.

 _Fools,_ Scourge thought. _All of them. If they were in the Empire, they would be conquered in days._

They first sign of any movement they came across was a servant droid who didn’t seem to have it in its programming to detect intruders.

“Ah,” it said upon seeing them. “Good sir. Gentle lady. May I offer you some refreshments?”

“Can you direct us to the ballroom?” Kira said.

“Certainly, madam. It is down the hall on the second left.”

“Thank you.”

Making their way past it, Scourge almost smiled as he said, “Did you just thank a droid?”

She screwed up her nose. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s good manners.”

“It’s a machine.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to be rude.”

“Yes,” he said, sarcastically. “Because etiquette is what matt—”

Grabbing the front of his jacket, she pulled him into an alcove using the Force.

“What are you—?”

“Shush!”

She held up a hand, silencing him. Voices were coming towards them down the corridor. Peering around the corner of the alcove, Scourge saw what appeared to be a Twi’lek and a Zabrak, both male and dressed in fine garments, stumbling their way towards them. They were both very obviously drunk as the Twi’lek failed to notice the expensive vase he almost toppled over and the Zabrak spoke in very slurred basic. There was almost no need to hide; Scourge was convinced that if they went past, they were too drunk to notice them.

“No, I’m telling you!” the Twi’lek said. “That was the funniest thing I’d ever seen. The way her heel just _snapped off_ , you know? Shoddy work, I must say. Maybe I should recommend a new tailor.”

“Where did the—?” The Zabrak hiccoughed. “Where did the Jedi go?”

The Twi’lek shrugged elaborately. “No idea! Probably left the party out of shame.”

“Naaaaahhhh,” the Zabrak said. “It’s a blizzard out there! Where would he go in this weather? The spaceport must be snowed in.”

“True, true. Maybe he’s doing his Jedi meditation in some private boudoir somewhere then, I don’t know.”

Laughing, the two reached the alcove where they were hidden. As Scourge predicted, they stumbled past without a glimpse in their direction. Even so, he didn’t dare speak until they were well out of earshot.

“We could’ve been part of the décor,” he muttered.

“We were,” Kira replied. “In a manner of speaking.” At his quizzical look, she smiled bashfully. “Another mind trick. I made them think that we were rather elegantly carved statues.”

“I’m…” Scourge was lost for words. “I’m actually impressed.”

She faked a look of shock. “Why, Scourge! Was that a compliment?”

“But if you could really do that, why hide in this alcove at all?”

She sighed. “And there he is again. Anyway, come on. If we search the rooms, maybe we’ll find theirs.”

“Can’t you not sense him through the Force? He is your master, after all.”

“Oh, of course! Good thinking.” She shut her eyes, a crease appearing between them as she focused. It took half a minute before they snapped open again. “He’s upstairs,” she said. “Almost directly above us. And he’s not alone… Xerxies is with him.”

They exchanged a look. A tidal wave of different emotions flooded Scourge’s consciousness. Kyros? Xerxies? Together? What were they doing? Images he had fought so hard to keep in check all day floated to the forefront of his mind again. The two Jedi locked in each other’s arms...

“Are— Are you sure?”

She nodded. “As certain as I am that there’s a blizzard outside.”

Desperately trying to squash his trepidation, Scourge followed her as she led him towards her master.

*

Kyros sat beside the bed in his designated quarters, watching Xerxies as his breathing slowed. The medical droid stood above them both as it watched Xerxies’ vitals on the holodisplay. Kyros looked at it too as the droid read it out.

“Name, Xerxies Androxida. Age, 27. Species, Unknown. Human and Arkanian DNA detected. Injuries. Minor Tracheobronchial injury detected. Contusions to the neck detected. Lacerations detected. Foreign DNA detected. Fever detected, 40.1 degrees standard.”

He glanced back down at Xerxies as the droid prattled on. The readout made his stomach churn. What had happened to him? More importantly, why hadn’t Kyros sensed he was in danger? As the droid continued it became harder to be angry at Xerxies for his outburst. Taking his hand, Kyros could feel the heat radiating from him. Part of it was from exposure — it had reached -12 outside — but the rest felt like something had become blocked within him. Within the Force. As if his outbursts were the Force itself breaking forth from a dam.

“Oh, Xerxies. What have you got yourself into?”

He watched as his chest slowly rose and fell. Kyros had taken him out of his ballgown and wrapped him with as many thick blankets as he could find. As they had stumbled into this oversized room, Xerxies had been shivering violently, his lips turning blue from the cold. Withing seconds he’d collapsed onto the enormous bed and Kyros requested a medical droid come at once. Although the droid had done its best to stabilise Xerxies and prevent him from dying from hypothermia, Kyros sensed that his lover’s affliction was beyond conventional healing. Something was going on inside him, as a war were taking place in his mind. No, not his mind, but his very spirit. Kyros would normally attribute it to the balance between the Light and Dark Sides battling for dominance. Except he’d never felt on this scale in an individual before. Many planets throughout the Galaxy, even entire regions of space, could be steeped deeply in the energy of either faction. Tython, for instance, was a planet filled with the life and colour of the Light Side. Korriban, on the other hand, was a seat of power for the Dark Side. The scale between the two tilted on most other planets, but it was there in some shape or form. Sometimes, it could be overwhelming for a practitioner of dark or light to experience either side in conflict.

Was that what was happening? Had something corrupted Xerxies in some way? Of every Light Side user, including Grandmaster Satele herself, Kyros had never met anyone who embodied it quite like the man who lay before him. What could have caused this catastrophic chain reaction?

He thought back to their conversation in the courtyard. Xerxies had mentioned an Arkanian. A guest? Kyros assumed so though didn’t recall seeing him in the ballroom or anywhere else in the castle. Perhaps it had been a Sith Infiltrator, a secret assassin sent to kill them both.

No, that didn’t fit. Both Kyros and Xerxies would’ve seen through his disguise at once. Infiltrators may have been able to fool apprentices and some Jedi knights, but neither Kyros nor Xerxies were exactly ordinary Jedi. Even so, he could not rule out that this Arkanian was a Dark Side user of some kind. Perhaps he ambushed Xerxies and the two of them duelled.

But then why couldn’t Kyros _sense_ it?

Almost as if in answer to his question, the medical droid piped up. “Master Jedi. Medical report indicates the patient was assaulted. A foreign DNA sample has been taken and forwarded with an incident report to the Palace Guard. I shall now begin treatment.”

The mention of the incident being sent to the guard didn’t faze Kyros. He barely even heard the droid as he held Xerxies hand. Meditating on him, hoping to on some level connect with him and help him with his struggle. As he sat there in silence, the droid employed its various instruments to help treat Xerxies.

Behind him, the door burst open. He spun round on his seat, his mouth falling open. Kira and Scourge had come charging into the room. They looked flustered, panting as if they had been running. Kyros stood up, staring at them.

“What are you two doing here?”

Kira looked from the droid to the bed. Scourge’s gaze remained fixed on Kyros.

“What is going on?” Kira took a step forward. “What were you doing just now?” Her eyes flickered once again to Xerxies’ unconscious form. “What happened to _him_?”

An uncomfortable silence sat between them all, filled only with the whirring of the medical droid’s instruments. It was Scourge who decided to break it.

“I can sense the Dark Side in this room.”

Kira whipped round. “Where?”

The Sith nodded at the bed. “In him.”

Before Kyros could begin to explain, Kira drew out her lightsabre hilt but didn’t ignite it. “I knew it!” she said, scowling. “He’s a Sith spy.”

“ _What_?” Kyros was completely taken aback. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on, Master! Isn’t it obvious what he’s been doing to you? He’s been slowly brainwashing you and turning you against us.”

“Kira—” Scourge began but she ignored him.

“And you _let_ him.” With a hiss, she rose her activated blade towards Kyros. The look on her face was like nothing he’d seen before. She looked both deranged and heartbroken. “You left me for him, didn’t you?” she sobbed. “He told you to do it because he knew it would be easier to turn you against us.”

“Kira,” he said, raising his hands. “Stop this. Let’s just calm down a second and talk. I can explain everything.”

“No!” She held up her weapon. “You betrayed me. You abandoned me. For him!”

Kyros reached for his own lightsabre as Kira raised her weapon to strike. Scourge stopped her. Grabbing her wrists, he pulled them upwards so the blade of her weapon was pointed in a safe direction.

“Don’t be stupid,” he growled.

“What is it with you men?” she snared at him. “I want to hack them both to _pieces._ ”

“Kira!” Kyros intoned in a ringing, authoritative tone. “Enough. Xerxies is not a Sith. He’s very much on our side.”

“That’s what you would say,” she said. “If he had you under his control.”

“Do I sound like I’m under his control? Do I even look it?”

Gazing into his eyes, her fierce expression softened, and she looked away. “No.” She deactivated her lightsabre and Scourge released her.

“And if you remember,” Kyros continued. “Our relationship ended before Xerxies joined our crew.” More gently, he approached her with a smile. “Listen, I know you’ve been going through a lot and it’s mostly my fault.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. To his surprise, she didn’t pull away. “I would very much like to talk to you about it,” he said. “But it’ll have to wait. Right now, we have more pressing problems.”

After a moment, she wiped her eyes. “All right.”

The tension eased somewhat, Kyros turned back to Xerxies. “Someone has hurt him. I don’t know who or how, but it’s started some kind of illness that’s eating him up.”

“The Dark Side,” Scourge said.

“Yes. I’ve been meditating, trying to see what it was that caused it. But I can’t quite get through.”

Examining the medical readouts, Scourge muttered, “Arkanian? I thought he was human.”

“ _Half_ human,” Kyros corrected. “But no less our friend.”

Scourge scowled. “Speak for yourself.”

Irritated, the Jedi looked from him to Kira who had no expression on her face. “Look, I know you’re both not exactly fond of Xerxies,” he said. “The Force only knows what he’s done to offend you.”

“He’s alive,” Kira muttered.

Kyros chose to ignore her. “But he’s in danger and we need to help him.”

“These symptoms,” Scourge said, “are consistent with someone that has been… assaulted in a specific manner.” At an inquiring look from Kyros, he elaborated, “I’ve seen this before. It’s a Dark Side technique designed to corrupt all the happy memories one has until they are driven mad or perish. But it’s complicated. It doesn’t work on someone who has lived a life with few regrets, which of course means it works on just about anyone. At worst, those people would suffer a mild fever and feel a dip in mood. For everyone else, the symptoms can be more severe.” His red eyes once again took in Xerxies. “I’ve never seen anything this potent before.”

“What can we do to stop it?”

“Nothing. It is irreversible.”

Kyros squashed the panic that rose inside him. “There’s got to be a way. Some healing technique.” He glanced once more at Kira. “Could you try to heal him?”

For a second, he was sure she was going to refuse, but then he sensed her Jedi morals take over and she knelt beside the bed, raising her hands over Xerxies’ body. Kyros felt the Light Side of the Force stream from her fingertips like a warm breeze.

“He’s too far gone,” she said. “If we’re to save him, we need more healers. I can only do so much.”

“What if we were to enhance your power?” Kyros nodded at Scourge. “We don’t exactly have much experience in the healing arts, but we can amplify it.”

“Or go into his mind space,” Scourge said. “As this is where this particular affliction holds the most sway.”

Kira nodded stiffly. “Whatever is going on inside him,” she said, “it’s _old_. I can sense that it’s had festered inside like a repressed memory.”

Kyros let the words wash over him. He could pity Xerxies later. “Whatever we see or experience inside his mind space, we have to remember that it is just a creation of his mind and not a true representation of him as a person. Agreed?”

There was a pause before they both nodded.

“All right,” Kyros said, his throat dry. “Let’s do this.”

He knelt down on both knees, placing his broad hands over his thighs. He watched as Scourge shut his eyes and raised his own hands above Xerxies, a purple ripple emanating from his fingers. Then Kira did the same, raising her hands in front of her face, clasping them together as they began to glow with golden light. Only until he knew they were both in a deep trance did Kyros allow himself to close his own eyelids. Blue waves of pure Force energy emanated from him like a blue flame. He reached out to touch Xerxies’ mind, feeling Kira and Scourge doing the same.

With a strong push, they plunged in.


	8. Mind Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an effort to help Xerxies fight his strange affliction, Kyros, Kira and Scourge enter his mind to find the source of corruption. What they find could change their entire perception of the Jedi forever.

Scourge opened his eyes. He had no idea where he was. He was in the corridor on some starship, Republic, by the looks of its design, but there was something… _off_ about it. There was nobody around. The various crates and other loose items normally found lying about were absent too. Neither were there the ambient bleepings and hummings normally associated with an idling vessel. Instead, all he could hear was a strange echo.

Had the ritual gone wrong? Where were the others? He turned, calling out their names. His voice echoed strangely and he shivered, remembering the emptiness of Nathema. He had not felt such emptiness since he’d brushed minds with the Sith Emperor and the less he remembered about that, the better.

“Scourge!”

There they were, Kira and Kyros standing together off to the left. As they moved forward, their footsteps made no sound.

“Did it work?” Again, Scourge was alarmed with how empty his voice sounded.

“Yeah,” Kyros said, though he didn’t sound sure. Like Scourge, his voice echoed in that odd way. He barely sounded present at all. “Though I did not expect his psyche to be like this.”

“This is his psyche?” Kira asked. “Funny. I expected more fashion.”

“We might see it,” Kyros said with a slight smile. “Each of these pathways leads to a memory, an idea or a dream.”

“You mean,” Kira said, “we get to see his fantasies?” She sounded revolted.

“Everything that is Xerxies is here,” Kyros told her. “So, yes, that may be the case.”

“Joy. I better not need to disinfect my eyes.”

Scourge found the corner of his mouth tug upwards in a slight smile. He wiped it off his face as soon as he noticed Kyros looking at him.

“Which way shall we go?” he asked. “Left or right?”

Kyros looked up and down the corridor. “Right,” he said. “I don’t know why. It just seems right.” His small laugh was met with glowers from Scourge and Kira. “Not my best,” he sighed. “Anyway. Let’s go.” 

The three made their way down the corridor. As they walked, doors began to appear that opened of their own accord. Scourge expected to see different rooms inside them, perhaps a situation or navigation room. Instead, they saw what could be best described as different scenes come into form. The first door they came across opened up onto a rocky landscape with soldiers, Republic and Imperial, frozen in mid-battle. Echoes of blaster fire, soldiers shouting orders and distant explosions filled the eerie silence. Everything around them was muted, apart from the figures central to the scene — Xerxies and his former crew.

“What is it?” Kira looked at the frozen scene with confusion.

“We’re looking at a memory.” Scourge approached one of Republic commandos, squinting. Kyros was doing the same, only with Xerxies himself. Meanwhile, Kira reached out towards an Imperial, swiping her hand which passed right through him.

“This is insane,” she said, studying her hand. “I’ve never seen the Force being used in this way before.”

Above the sound of battle, louder than everything, they distinctly heard a child’s laughter. They all turned, searching for the sound. But no child could be seen.

“Let’s move on,” Kyros muttered. “I think we need to keep looking.”

“What exactly are we looking for?” Kira demanded.

“The source of corruption. Look.” He pointed. A cloud of dark purple smoke seeped at the edges of the memory, erasing some of the rocky terrain. Kira’s eyes widened. “If we don’t find it and purge his mind, Xerxies will be lost to us.”

Kira didn’t look too sorry about that. Regardless, she nodded. “So, where do you propose we start looking?”

“Not here,” Kyros said. “If I’m not mistaken, this memory is the least corrupted.”

“Then let’s go already,” Scourge growled.

They left through the door they came through, emerging into that sterile ship corridor. Once again, they heard laughter.

“Did someone just—?” Kira spun on the spot, peering down as if trying to find a womp rat at her feet.

“What?” Scourge looked round at her.

“Someone just ran past me. I felt them.”

Scourge felt it too. A small presence. Faint. But definitely there. “A child…” Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted it — a small, red haired child running past, vanishing up the corridor. It was little more than a wraith, fading into the shadows as though born from them. In fact, Scourge noticed with alarm, the shadows ahead were denser, traced with veins of dark purple.

“I’m guessing we go this way,” Kira muttered.

They moved on at a jogging pace, passing more doors, witnessing more memories. Most were like the first memory, wielding his lightsabre and using the Force in battle, but there were some where he sat enjoying a drink with members of his old crew, and snippets of conversations with members of various species. They lost count of the number of doors as well as the passage of time. As they moved, the darkness grew thicker. They occasionally felt the child’s presence and heard its laughter, glimpsing it running up ahead. Kyros picked up the pace and, with a glance at one another, Scourge and Kira did the same. They halted when they saw the child run through an open door up ahead. Without a second thought, they followed.

They found themselves inside a laboratory, one that was within keeping of the overall design of the ship. They could see the red haired child clearly now. It was running around the lab in an excitable manner, no more than two or three standard years old.

“Xerxies! Come back here!” A woman entered the room. She stood as tall as Scourge and her hair was as white as the surface of Hoth which ran long down her tanned skin. The child stumbled forward, and Scourge saw for the first time a small feline creature in his arms. “Xerxies, you need to stop freeing animals from the lab.” The woman knelt before him. “One day, you’ll free the wrong one. And I won’t be able to mend you.” She ran a dermal regenerator over where he had scratches on his arms.

“Doesn’t hurt,” the young Xerxies said.

“I know you’re made of sterner stuff than your father seems to think, but honestly, Xerx.” She sighed then smiled as she wiped a mark off his cheek. “Just be more careful, all right?” She looked down at the animal which clicked and squawked in his hands. “And put him back where you found him.”

The memory ended, both figures freezing as if they’d reached the end of a holovid.

“I hate to admit it,” Kira grumbled as they left. “But he was a cute kid.”

“That must’ve been before he was taken by the order,” Kyros said.

“Oh, you think?” She folded her arms. “What a genius deduction!” Even without Force insight, Scourge would know she was still sore over their exchange back in the real world. He couldn’t blame her, exactly. He had his own feelings towards Kyros. He was just much better at hiding it.

Ignoring her, Kyros turned to Scourge. “What do you think?” he said.

“What do I _think_?” Scourge responded, bewildered.

“Well, do you believe that memory had become corrupted?”

“Did it look corrupted to you?”

The Jedi gave him a withering look. “No, it didn’t.”

They reached a fork in the path, each looking as dark as the other.

“So, what now?” Kira sounded almost bored.

Kyros’ brow furrowed. “I’m pretty sure if we detect the source, we can pick up a trail. Scourge, you can detect Dark Side energy better than both of us. Could you help us find it?”

Nodding, Scourge reached out with the Force. He could feel the Dark Side all right. It was everywhere. Before, he might have revelled in the sense of power it afforded him. Now, however, all it did was make him feel empty and cold. He had to fight back a sneer. He should’ve known Xerxies was too weak to handle the Dark Side.

“This way.” Scourge set off down the right-hand fork and the other two followed.

As they went, they witnessed other memories of Xerxies’ childhood where he danced and twirled in long robes of silk, laughing as the same white-haired woman from the laboratory picked him up and hugged him, smiling. They even saw a glimpse of something Scourge found disquieting, even though he knew they were likely to stumble across it. Xerxies wrapped in Kyros’ arms as the two of them made love in the Jedi’s quarters on the _Defender_. This was a strong memory, hard to ignore, and very recent. When? Yesterday? The day before perhaps. It was unclear.

“ _I love you, Xerxies_.”

“ _And I you, Kyros_.” 

Scourge did his best to ignore the anger and the hurt at hearing it. Even so, it was nothing to what Kira must be feeling who was doing her absolute best to avert her gaze. Kyros seemed embarrassed but said nothing.

They reached yet another memory, taking place in the same laboratory, although the environment changed to red as alarms sounded. The white-haired woman stood up from a stool quickly and scooped Xerxies into her arms. As she left the room the memory ended.

“That was short,” Kira said.

“I would say disjointed,” Scourge muttered. “Let’s keep moving.”

As they continued, another door opened up onto the same corridor that looked like it belonged to the same vessel they were exploring, only here it appeared damaged. The air felt thick, heavy with the smell of melted metal. Alarms were blaring.

“Warning, Reactor Core Critical. Evacuate immediately. Repeat, reactor core critical. Please report to the escape pods.”

As the sound of running footsteps grew louder, they saw the white-haired woman coming their way. This time, she was accompanied by a pale human man, his red hair taking on a deeper shade as the evacuation lights flashed. In his arms was a bundle of fabric wrapped in the obvious shape of a small child. Xerxies.

“Quickly, we must get to the escape pod!” As they approached, the blast doors behind them closed. “Eliz’xhu,” the man said, panting. “We need to get Xerxies off this ship. We can’t let them take him.”

The pod’s hatch was barely moving before the blast doors were ripped open, smoke billowing outwards as the metal warped. Both man and woman screamed and cowered, huddling over Xerxies who was remarkably silent. Scourge knew nothing of the behaviour of younglings, but he fully expected them to cry under such stressful circumstances. Perhaps Xerxies was stronger than he had thought.

From the smoke, another woman dressed in brown robes and armour emerged, her viridian lightsabre casting an eerie glow. Behind her were two men, also dressed in armour. Republic Troops.

“End of the line, doctors,” the Jedi said. “You’re wanted for the development of bio-weapons for the Empire and harbouring a youngling.”

“I will not let you take my child!” Thaddius reached for a pistol at his thigh, but before his fingers touched it, a blue bolt screamed through the air and into his chest. Dropping backwards, Eliz’xhu caught Xerxies as she fell to her knees.

“Thaddius!” she screamed. “ _Thaddius_!”

The Jedi advanced on the two of them.

“Take her prisoner.”

The memory ended. But not before they saw Xerxies’ face whose eyes were wide in terror as they reflected the viridian blade.

“No.” Kyros’ face had gone white as he stood there shaking his head. “No…”

“Did… did we just see what I think we saw?” Kira looked even paler than her Master, her eyes wide of shock.

Even Scourge had to acknowledge his astonishment. While he loathed the Jedi and all they stood for, not even he believed they could take a child from its mother’s arms. Worst of all, they had been Imperial citizens. Had the Empire known of this, it would’ve been an act of war. Nevertheless, he did his best to hide his feelings as he sneered at his companions.

“Your precious Jedi Code does not seem as honourable now,” he said. “Does it?”

He expected them to argue, to defend their order with pathetic justifications and excuses. But they didn’t. They just stood there in stunned silence.

“Who was that Jedi?” he demanded.

“Ter’qa Wen,” Kyros said. “That must’ve been when she was on her crusade against that rogue clan of Mandalorians.”

Scourge felt his stomach clench. “She sounds like Revan.”

“She was a fan of his, yes.”

“I always knew she was a bad egg,” Kira grumbled. “But I never thought she would do something like that.”

“Why? Isn’t it common practise for your order to kidnap and indoctrinate children?”

Kira glared at him. “No. It isn’t.” 

“Let’s keep moving,” Kyros said, immediately cutting off their discussion.

As they approached the next memory, they saw at once that it was unlike any of the others. This door, for one, remained closed. It appeared broken. Dark. Scourge peered at it, eyes narrowing.

“This is it,” he said, “This is the source.”

“What is it?” Kira whispered in awe.

“Another memory. A powerful Force user put in a lot of hard work to hide it.”

“It’s spreading.” Kira pointed at dark tendrils reaching out from the dark cluster before them, spreading all over the walls and floor.

Kyros closed his eyes. “I can sense it too,” he said. “But I don’t know who cast it. There are traces, of course, but not from any master I know. Whoever they were, they were powerful.”

“Could it have been Ter’qa Wen?”

“No. This feels more like something a Sith would do.”

A familiar voice sounded out behind him. “What are you doing here?”

They all turned. Xerxies was standing there, not the young Xerxies or some other past version of himself, but Xerxies as they knew him. No, not quite, Scourge decided. He was, if possible, even paler than he had been lying on his sick bed. Veins showed vividly beneath his skin like bolts of lightning. His normally green eyes now held a yellow tint. All tell-tale signs of Dark Side corruption. To top it off, he was clad in floor-length robes coloured black and crimson, the Sith jewellery attached to his face seeming to glow with some sinister energy while strands of his flame-coloured hair floated above his scalp as if he were underwater.

“Xerxies!” Kyros rushed towards him, relief flooding his features.

“Don’t!” Scourge warned but too late.

Xerxies extended a hand. From his fingertips, bolts of purple lightning shot out at Kyros, hitting him squarely in the chest. He fell to the floor, grunting with pain.

“ _Master_!” Activating her lightsabre, Kira charged at Xerxies with a yell. He dispatched her easily with another well-targeted bolt of Dark Side energy. Soon both she and Kyros were on the floor, smoke rising from their bodies.

“You are trespassing,” the dark vision before Scourge said. Once again, it raised a hand and Scourge felt as though he’d been hit by a speeder as the full brunt of the attack hit him. He flew backwards, landing on the invisible floor, rolling over and over. He could sense Xerxies advancing on him. “You have no right to be here.”

Wincing, Scourge managed to get to his feet, making his aggressor halt. “You’ll… have a much harder time disposing of me,” he grunted.

With an evil smirk, the vision withdrew its lightsabre, its vivid purple blade highlighting its already warped features. Scourge brought out his own in response. He wasn’t even sure if cutting down this dark version of Xerxies would work when it was inside the Jedi’s mind, but he threw the blade anyway, letting it curve in an arc towards his target. But the nightmarish figure disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke, allowing the scarlet lightsabre to pass right through it. Aghast, Scourge looked all around to find multiple copies of the apparition surrounding him. Weapon aloft, he ducked and weaved out of the way of more bolts of lightning and other Dark Side attacks. He had trained against some of the Sith Empire’s most powerful sorcerers before now, something he was careful to keep on top of. On one mission as the Emperor’s Wrath, he’d been tasked with wiping out an entire room of them because they risked Vitiate’s plans on conquering the Republic. This was nothing like that. The attacks were ferocious. Remorseless. If this was a reflection of Xerxies’ darkest half, it was insanely powerful. Without his own training, Scourge was unsure if he’d been able to keep up.

Eventually, the copies all merged into one and, with dark smoke surrounding it, leapt towards Scourge, eyes burning with fury and hatred. Their lightsabres clashed and locked. Despite his towering strength and muscle, Scourge felt himself being pushed down onto one knee as he fought to keep the vision at bay.

“Get out!” it snarled, its voice ringing in Scourge’s ears as though a multitude of voices spoke in unison.

“You first,” he snarled back.

With a burst of Force energy, he stumbled backwards. He barely had time to react as the amethyst blade cut into his abdomen. His body lurched and then all he experienced was darkness.


End file.
